Langerhans Pancreas Cup, Adventures with the Buddha, and Mamalicious Goes Bald!

Yes, yes, I know. I am fully aware that I only blogged once in March. Please accept my deepest apologies. Mom, I think you've survived, and I think we know who is to blame for my lack of bloggification! Haha. Too much fun, not enough downtime to document it.

Anyway, after much waiting, here's another one. Kinda random, but this should not surprise you anymore.

So a few weeks ago, Mamalicious and I were at Value Village in Raycilla, Wiscompton, when we came across one of the most ridiculous things we'd ever seen, which is quite the accomplisment, because between the two of us, we've seen some pretty ridiculous ass shit.

I'm not even going to try to describe this thing. Here's the picture.




So what we're looking at is a bright yellow vessel with arms, legs, and a face. He's kinda bumpy and weird-looking. I'm fairly certain that when Mamalicious spotted him, her first words were, "What the hell?"

We could not for the life of us figure out what this thing was supposed to be, other than that it was a cup. This was, of course, until we turned this fine thang up-side down and read the bottom.





That's right, mofos, it says "Pancreas."

Obviously.

Why wouldn't it?

This definitely inspired us, and we purchased it. Who could pass such a thing up, especially on half price day? What really begs the question for me is, "Who could donate such a thing? (or buy it in the first place? Or manufacture it? Ok, there are just too many questions!)

Anyway, we took it home, and as we discussed it, we kept calling it the "Pancreas Cup." We decided that that definitely sounded like some kind of award... You know, like the Stanley Cup or World Cup or whatever.

We also decided that neither of us really knew what in hell our lovely pancreas does in our body, so we went home and hit up google, where we came across this ridiculous website.

There are so many glorious things about that website, that I almost don't know where to start, but for those of you who aren't all that big of lovers of reading (what in hell are you doing reading my long ass blog then?), we'll just start with the obvious amazing graphics.

After the first obvious and necessary diagram of the pancreas, we have the Cuervo bottle with the big red x going through it. NO!!!! NO CUERVO!!!!!

Then there are a couple gross pictures, and some medical staff clip art (which includes, but is not limited to a man sprinting whilst pushing a patient in a hospital bed), and then my favorite comes....

Yeah, the repeated shot-pouring. Hilarious!

Obviously, the pancreas does something with alcohol, or is negatively affected by it. Or maybe it's just moderately-priced Tequila that is the nemesis of the pancreas?

But for those of you who did read this website to enlighten yourselves about our wonderful pancreases (pancrii?), you may have noticed that 5-90% of the cases of pancritis in the US are attributed to alcoholism.

FIVE to NINETY percent?!?!

Thanks for narrowing it down for us, jackasses!

Oh, and I am sure that you readers (or pancreas afficionados) noted that "Langerhans" is some kind of cell that is affiliated with the pancreas!

So as usual, my mom and I are laughing so hard we are crying, and woke Marv up from his nap.

We decided that the pancreas cup is going to be an award for people who do absurd things whilst drinking, and set out to craft a certificate.

After much deliberation, this is what the certificate says:

Congratulations! You are a recipient of the Langerhans Pancreas Cup! You have earned this honor by challenging your pancreas to an Olympic level of metabolizing alcoholic beverages and living to tell tales of absurdity! As a Langerhans Pancreas Cup winner, your responsibility is to pass this award on to another individual who has earned it by achieving similar feats as you have in the areas of beveraging and ridiculousness, and you only have thirty days to do so! It is also your responsibility to ensure that the tales of absurdity are passed on to Sir Langerhans Pancreas by emailing whatever tales earned you the cup to PancreasCup@gmail.com. Enjoy your award, and remember to always drink irresponsibly with a responsible person.

We also included an interesting (and incredibly phallic) image of a real pancreas on the certificate. And yes, we did set up a gmail account for the cup, as well as a myspace .

Here's a picture of Mamalicious and I with the cup.




And yes, every time a new recipient is selected and sends the story, the blog will be posted on here as well as on the cup's myspace. =)

So. Who deserved the inaugural award?

Paul! The Asian drunken mohawk elephant who does tricks while defending the homeless. Yeah, his nickname grows almost daily because of the ridiculousness his life is. He actually might rival me, and together, it only multiplies.

We're talking about a guy who got punched two Mondays in a row for no good reason. A guy who got drunk in a bar and got a mohawk. A guy who sends texts that say things like, "I am too much to drink."

He and Mamalicious are friends on MySpace, and he often sends her tales of whatever ridiculous business he did the night before.

Here is what he sent her that made us decide that he deserved the first award:

"Ok so now I am home and just about to take a nap. I figured I could not rest until I told you the entire story.

Well the evening began with myself and my friend Demetri at Kenadee's. We knew the bartender, so our beverages were over-poured by a substantial amount. I get there and Demetri is with one of his co-workers. It so happens this co-worker of his wanted to hang out with us all night. I think her name isHallie.

Anyway, a bunch of beverages later, more friends arrive. Rachel and Maj from the club I work at show up and so begin the shots. This all before 10:30pm. I did receive a few texts from Mandie regarding her state of inebriation. Well, tradition usually has it that we start at Kenadees and proceed to Centanni, this really nice piano bar where a couple of my friends work at.

Before that could happen, we had to pick up a girl that Demetri likes from another bar. While I was in the process of "drunken ninja," Demetri told me to get rid of Hallie so we could go pick up Barbie. Yes, her name is Barbie. I refused. So we began a text battle from 2 feet away. I sat with Rachel and Maj and leftDemetri with Hallie to deal with. Here is a synopsis of the text battle:

Demetri: how do i get rid of her?
Paul: Punch her in the face.
Demetri: She wants to go with us.
Paul: She should, you need the ass.
Demetri: I dont want her to come.
Paul: Lets just leave and see if she notices.
Demetri: I cant do that I work with her.
Paul: Punch her in the neck.
Demetri: I hate you.

It could have gone other ways, but that is what I remember. Anyway, so he somehow got her to leave and we were ready to go. We arrive at this bar where we are supposed to pick up Barbie. She is fall down drunk. So, Demetri says to me, "Sorry to do this to you dude, but we have to take her home."

I said "That's fine, we can drop her off at the condo and go back out."

Demetri then told me that he was going to stay with her. I became very angry at this point, because mybuddy just ditched me for a drunk girl. So in retaliation, I stole his car keys and took off in his Cadillac to go meet up with our friends at Centanni. No less than a minute after I arrive I already have a shot of Grand Marnier waiting for me. Well, we all know how this story goes, one shot turns into two andtwo turns into 15.

So I get a text from Maj askingwhere I was and I responded accordingly. She asked me to meet them at another bar, and I said sure. I meet upwith Maj and their friends and no more than 30 seconds later I was gone. I had no idea what I was doing there and realized I had to return the stolen vehicle. I figured 2am would be a good time.

I get back to the condo and used my cell phone as a flashlight to guide my way through the house. Why I did not turn on the lights is beyond me at this point. I find Demetri sleeping peacefully in his bed and I throw the keys at him as hard as I could at his chest. That got his attention and I proceeded to tell him thathe needed to take me to my car. He agreed and we were in the garage where his car was and he decided to pee on a snowbank outside next to the garage. I thought itwould be funny to push him into the snowbank as he was urinating. Turns out he is a lot heavier than I am.

Well, then I thought he was thristy so I grabbed some gatorade from the garage and threw them at him. He had trouble catching them since he was still peeing. Afterthat I decided I needed to chill out and sober beforeI made my way home. So I had some water and then made it home safely later that morning."

Yeah, he typed all that out in a MySpace message and sent it to my mom. Thanks, mom, for sending it to me! Who thinks Paul should start blogging?! I do, I do!

Anyway, here's Paul with his award...



Doesn't he look so proud? He should be! Now he just has to find a worthy second recipient! I can't wait to see where this thing goes....

Someone who has a good chance of receiving it is Buddha. Met him out randomly on a Sunday night, where we preceeded to make "Brutalities I'm hammered?" a reality.

We were at Vitucci's and a group of them were playing that hunting game. No one was as intense as Buddha, who "likes to kill things."

Check out his stance!



Oh Buddha, I love and heart thee.

Anyway, I think my favorite quote of the night from Buddha was when he said, "I don't really ever lie, unless it is something really bad, like when I called my mom from that jail in Mexico..."

Fiff. Obviously!

Anyway, as we were leaving, we encountered a man who had quotes who would likely top Buddha's. He was a war veteran that I had encountered when we were walking in. He noticed my buttons on my jacket for my breast cancer 3-day walk, and asked me about them.

He then told me that his son, who was quite embarrassed and sitting right next to him, had undergone a heart transplant recently. We talked a bit more, about tame things, and then I went back by our group of friends in the back.

I had not, however, seen the last of this man.

As we were leaving, Buddha was closing his tab, and I went to talk to him so we could walk across the street together and go back to Decibel. Buddha was standing next to this man, so I stood between them.

One thing led to another, and the next thing I know, we are talking about Buddha's ass, which is, for the record, the firmest ass ever. It feels like marble, which is exactly what I told this old man. I encouraged him to grab Buddha's ass, which is something that I do to pretty much everyone who meets Buddha, as it really is a thing of wonder.

Maybe it's from his intense shooting stance? Haha.

Anyway, I thought for sure this guy would be game to grab Buddha's ass, but instead, he took the opportunity to grab mine.

Whaaaaaat???

His son was very intensely embarrassed. He just explained that when presented with choices on whose ass to grab, he'd rather grab mine. So he did. Again.

I was in such shock (I don't know why anything shocks me anymore) that I was pretty much laughing so hard that I was crying and couldn't speak. The guy then said something about how he, Buddha, and I could have a threesome, but that he would hit Buddha over the head.

Yikes! Umm, no thank you?

Then we somehow got back to talking about Buddha's ass, and the old dude finally grabbed it. He was quite impressed, but decided he needed to compare it to mine. Really, dude? Come on!

He said his hand was forever frozen in the shape of my ass, and said something to Buddha about how most girls' asses are "too rotten to fuck" so you have to eat them, or something. He then said something about how he has false teeth, and he can just take them out, and he has like a three-inch tongue or something absurd like that. Says the ladies love it.

Again, I say, "no, thank you!"

Time to go! We bid this man and his very embarrassed son adieu, and went on for more adventures at Decibel's "alternative lifestyles night," where Buddha and I made a few new friends and a pact to get married if we're still single at age 32.

And so began my Spring break....

Tuesday rolled around, and it was time for my mom and I to do some hanging out. The plan was to go to Knuepple (pronounced ka-nipple) and get her a temporary fake tata to hold her over until she has reconstructive surgery, go to lunch at Kewpee's with my grandparents, then go to get her head shaved.

Well, the whole tata plan never came to fruition, as apparently (app a rent ly!), you need to have an appointment, and it is a two-hour process. I guess she's going this Thursday. We'll see how that goes!

So, we had a ton of time. Went to Kewpee's, which was glorious as always. I want that right now, actually!

Decided to use our extra time to go and perhaps find Mamalicious some wigs. In a strange turn of events, the wig store she knew of was closed for Spring Break.

So I texted google (you know I love doing that), and found that there were a few more.

They were either weird (think a man coming to the door in the worst toupe you've ever seen, at a store that makes CUSTOM wigs and also is a gift shop that sells Christmas crap in March), or non-existent. Damn.

So we kinda just drove around randomly. I felt bad, because I was so hung over from the night before, when a ton of the Decibel employees and regulars went to see Nate at Jackalope Lounj and then off to Rain for Paul to get his Monday punch in the head. Bru-tality.

Anyway, my hangover made it difficult for me to stay awake, so my mom was kinda stuck making conversation with my grandparents much of the time.

This was a little interesting, though, as sometimes my grandma says some pretty mind-blowing things. For example, when we were driving past a bridal store in Raycilla, I spotted a NEON lime green (like the intensity and brightness of a tennis ball, but greener) WEDDING DRESS in the window, and I made a comment about how seeing that dress made me want to find a man and get married right away.

Grandma said, "You don't have to get married to be on drugs, you can just come by me."

Right on.

Wait, what?

Love her. I see where we're headed, Mamalicious! Haha.

Anyway, we finally got to the hair salon, and shaved Mom's head.

VIDEO!

Warning, the video is like twelve minutes long, and really not that incredibly excited. I personally hate watching it, because I was doing the filming, and I am the most easily-heard voice and giggle on the video. I hate listening to myself. I hope I don't sound that lame in real life! (Don't tell me if I do.)

Plus, it's not as funny as you might think to watch your mom's head get shaved.

But hey, here's the video!

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=4741383372673306380&hl=en" flashvars="">


And, of course, there are pictures....

In the middle of the thing, she had a mohawk, which I decided was a "momhawk," so I had to take a picture for Paul.



The momhawk didn't last long.

Soon, she was totally bald, and honestly, flyer than ever. Check it out.




Isn't she gorgeous?

Dustin, who made the dictuary (one of many times!) for saying, "Balds have more fun!" was ready right away to welcome Mamalicious into the Bald is Beautiful club.

Mom was ready to go up to Cush and stand between the Jenkins twins and be the middle part of an oreo cookie of baldness. The Jenkins triplets? Haha, hilarious.

Seriously, though, I think she looks great. Her head is shaped so well for it! I would worry I would look like a conehead or something, but I think she looks amazing.

She decided that she'd rock a blue wig when we left, and here's what she looked like in that....

Cute, right?

And here she is with my grandma and I . Three generations!

Glorious.

Anyway, before I close out this long (as usual) and random (also pretty customary) blog, I will leave you with another video.

It is my public service announcement, and it is all factual, I assure you.

One of my favorite things ever, seriously....

Ok, you know I love kids, and dancing, and blah blah blah.

But what the world really needs is more little guys like Seth. Seriously.

Click on his name, watch the video, and prepare for your mind to be blown.

Oh, and the temptation will likely be strong to watch the "Party in my Tummy" related video on the side. Buddha gave in to such temptation, then told me to watch it. It is scary. Be careful, and view it at your own risk.

I do not think that my children will watch much Yo Gabba Gabba.

Ok, they might. It's kinda weird, and I love weird. Plus, I don't think that anything that I raise really has a chance of turning out normal. Anyone met Refugio? Puh-lease!

Hope everyone had a great Christmas. I'll be blogging about that, soon.... And finishing up that one I started on 12/7. Tomorrow (well, technically today), I am going to Madison, and my mom is coming to Milwaukee on Thursday, so there will be a chance for new material coming soon as well!

Aloha & Manastacia: Reunited & it Feels so Good! (And the History of the Armanian Empire!)

This past Saturday, I had a pleasant blast from the past.


My Junior and Senior years of college, I lived with two girls, Laura and Amie. I knew Laura from highschool, and Amie I met through Laura. I am going to take this moment to mention the fact that both Amie and Laura are married now, and that makes me feel weird, because I still feel like I am 19 years old with a fake ID.


Anyway, this past Saturday, Amie came up to visit. I hadn't seen her in almost a year, and we hadn't necessarily done an amazing time keeping in touch.

We were absurd in college. We'd go out a few nights a week, and once went about a month without spending more than two dollars the whole month on the drinks we'd imbibe. Holla.

We liked props. We'd bring out a tape recorder, and interview people. Or perhaps a microphone, and pretend Amie was an on-location reporter. "Back to the studio, Stacy!"

We also liked aliases. I know that Amie had been Leslie a few times, and many people were calling me "Mandelicious" even then. But our best aliases came about from the purhcases of some really tacky initial necklaces. When we wore the necklaces, she became "Aloha," and I "Manastascia." Yes, I am aware that my alias sounds like the stage name of a drag queen stripper. Deal with it. You'd be surprised at how many people believed that shit!


After she arrived, we discussed the plan. We were to go out to eat, go to the Marquette game, then go out to a few bars.... This presented outfit challeges. Amie likened what she was to be doing to superman changing. I called it awards show changing. Either way, we were going to have to change our outfits a few times. I wish we would've taken more pictures! We should've captured all of our outfits. Oh well!


So we put on our dinner outfits. We met Danielle outside of Murphy's, where I left my car. Danielle then drove us to the restaurant.


Let me just tell you that the freaking waitress had to have thought we were crackheads. This cute little girl had to come back at least four times before we could even decide what crazy drinks we'd like to enjoy over dinner. I had to tell Amie the Vegas story and the story of my interactions with the terrorists (which Danielle helped me to tell). Plus, the drink menu was written in a fairly humorous manner, so we were enjoying that too much to focus on what the actual drinks were, and what we wanted. Poor girl!


We ate our meals and drank our drinks. Amie drinks like a damn fish. I have never seen someone inhale a beverage in such a way. She drinks sooooo fast! It's absurd. She finished her first drink within five minutes. It was an impressive feat. Unbelievable, really.



After dinner, the cute little waitress returned to tell us that our desserts were being paid for by one of the owners, and that the special was "vulture cake with swoop swoop sauce." I felt so bad for this girl for having to come and say that to us! I almost died laughing. My face hurt by the time we left the restaurant because I had been laughing so hard I was crying the whole meal. I barely even ate because I was cracking up the whole time. Made for good leftovers!



Next event was the Marquette game, so we changed clothes in the car, and Danielle dropped us off at the game. Time to sober up a little! Our seats were great (Thanks, Ousmane!).... Section 200, Row D, seats 9 & 10. That's half court. Amie was hilarious. She mentioned that she had seen video clips of Tom Crean yelling on tv, and now she could hear him!



Game was entertaining, as usual. I was quite disappointed, however, that Ousmane didn't start.... I love hearing "At 6'10" from Dakar, Senegal.... Oooooooooousmane Barrrro!" Maybe next time. He's in Maui now. I am jealous.



Anyway, after the game, we took the bus back to the Annex, and walked across the street to Murphy's, where my car was parked. I knew that Buddha was supposed to be working, so we thought we'd pop in.



To our surprise, Parker from Decibel and his friend Matt were standing at the end of the bar. Fancy that! And Joe, the manager, was working as well. It was practically a Tuesday night at Decibel, except.... Well, it wasn't really like that at all. Haha.



Anyway, Parker informed us that we had been on the jumbotron at the Marquette game. Awesome. I hope that I wasn't doing anything stupid. I really have to be cognizant of the possibility of jumbotron action when I am sitting in the family section!



We had a couple drinks and did a couple shots, then Buddha showed up, and we had some more. Buddha was Buddha, and it was hilarious. Amie showed again her striking abilities of being able to pound drinks. Joe even remarked - "damn, girl, you thirsty?" Hilarious.

After Murphy's, it was awards show/superman time again. We went home and spiced things up, spruced up, if you will (and I know you will!).

Next stop was Cush, which was a good time. That place is starting to grow on me, I think. It was here that we were informed that we drink high-maintenance drinks, because they stop the flow of drink-making because they are bizarre and out of reach of the bartender.

44 North and Sprite and Malibu and Coke? Really? Bizarre. When you see me coming, move the bottle into the flow! Haha.

Anyway, after our drink at Cush, we of course moved on to Decibel.

By the way, I am having an almost impossible time focusing on the task at hand, which is blog-writing. I'm pretty sure it's the third day I've come back to it. Fiff. I need to lock it up.

Decibel was a glove as usual. We said his, and I made about a billion introductions. We met up with the Prince.... There will be more about him and such later.

We did some drinking, obviously, and did some shot-taking.... You know the deal.

At one point, in VIP, we were talking to Hen (see the blog about the wifebeater bar crawl) when suddenly Amie pulled out her recorder. Yes, that's right, her recorder. And no, I don't know why this whole thing is a link. I only wanted it to be the part that is in the parentheses. This is pretty damn intense.

So yeah. Woohoo! No more link! I never claimed to be a computer genius.

Yeah, so Amie pulled out this recorder and just starts playing right in the club. Hilarious. Hen was agog. Just loved it.

Back by the Prince.... Picture time!

Here's Amie and I....





When I introduced her to Dustin, he said that he could tell that we caused a lot of trouble in college. I have no idea what he is talking about. Look at us! We practically have halos! Just beeming with innocence (ignore the fact that I look hammered).

Next it was time to take a pic with the Prince...




Wow. That is a... really nice picture. Umm... Notice the green star on his left shoulder? I had decided that since I am a teacher, I was going to bring out foil stars and give them to deserving individuals. Amie kicked it up a notch and more or less covered some people, like Scooter, with them.

Whilst the camera was out, Amie suggested that we take a picture of the fine fellow with the nice abs. I think the point was actually to capture the abs themselves.... So back to Arinze we went....




For the love of people with functional eyes, Arinze, would it kill you to do a crunch or sit-up now and then? I mean, come on. That is just shameful. Haha.

I think poor Arinze is blushing here.

Moving on.... When I came back from taking the picture of Arinze, the Prince told me that Shawn had refused to pour us the royal shot. He was quite disappointed, so I went to go see what's up.

When I walked to the bar, before I could say anything to him at all, Shawn said, "Mandie, I am not pouring six shots of triple sec."

Shawn, I do not blame you. Also, I must say that it is entirely too funny to me that every time I try to type your name, I accidentally type "Shaqn" because I am so used to typing about Shaq, apparently. I need to pull my life together.

Anyway, I really don't know what self-respecting bartender would just pour a bunch of shots of triple sec. Especially without a good explanation, which is what Shawn asked for.

By the way, I am considering just leaving the name wrong here. Haha.

I promised Shawn that I would explain the story to him. Obviously it wouldn't have been easy to do in Decibel on a Saturday night, so I figured I'd put it in a blog and send him the link.

There wasn't a whole lot to the rest of the night. We met up with LL after the bar was closed and went to Ma's where I threw a lil fit because I couldn't enjoy any Cream of Chicken and Rice soup.

So here's the story. The history of the Armanian Empire, and how Triple Sec became our royal shot.

My sophomore year of college, I began dating Mike. He was a bit of a bullshitter. Totally made up absurd things. For example, I recall a scenario in which he convinced a friend that he was allegic to ice cubes. This went down whilst he stood in a swimming pool. What?

Anyway, the summer before junior year, he moved from the dorms into a shithole. I mean, into a house. He had 6 other roommates. I knew most of them, either from having gone to high school with Danielle and Mike (I met Mike through Danielle, so I knew a lot of these people for awhile), or from hanging out with them when I visited Mike in Milwaukee in the dorms.

There was, however, one roommate that I did not know at all. That was Matt.

Matt's grandpa lived in the Philippines, and apparently was a big deal. I'm told he is like a Hilton over there, and that when Matt visits, he is treated like a Prince.... They iron his socks and underwear and such.

Anyway, I still swear to this day that Mike told me that Matt WAS the prince of some foreign land. I take full credit for having perhaps forgotten which land he mentioned, and just deciding at some later point that it was Armenia.

So life moved on, and I just was kinda scared of Matt. I was a little more shy at this point than I am now. I just observed.

The types of things I observed were that Matt rarely went to class, wore expensive clothes, did not seem to have a job, did a lot of poker playing with serious amounts of money (to my poor ass, haha) both online and in casinos, and that he spent money like it was his job - buying shots and rounds of drinks like crazy, buying me food at Michael's and Omega in the middle of the night, etc.

Anyway, a year and a half goes by, and I barely talk to Matt. The entire time, I think he's the prince of Armenia. Absurd, yes, I know.

I just figured it was like... Coming to America. My favorite movie! Matt just wanted to live in a rat-infested (no, that is not an exaggeration) shithole for a couple years while he did the college thing and checked out America before he went back to Armenia to rule on his throne.

Oy. I'm sounding like a moron here, aren't I?

So I'm talking to Mike, like a year and a half into these guys living together, and I confess that I thought that Matt was the prince of Armenia. He just started cracking up, and he told me that this was not the case, and he denied that he had ever made such a claim. I'd like to say for the record that his claim that he didn't make the claim is an erroneous fabrication. Wait, what?

A couple nights later, I am down from Madison visiting, and I drunkenly start confessing to Matt, who I am practically talking to for the first time, that I'd been thinking that he was the prince of Armenia for almost two years.

Hilarious.

So the night rolls on, and when we're driving from the bars to Omega, Matt is yelling out of Steve's (who would later be known as Oha, just like the guy from Coming to America. And yes, we do tell him to do stuff and say Oha and then clap twice) sunroof to his people. Saying "Helloooo!" in a regal way to passersby on the sidewalk. Absurd.

Later that night, Matt and I would bond by me sitting on his lap in Eric's room and me seeing my first few seconds of porn, the Paris Hilton video, whilst sitting on his lap. Yeah. Kinda weird, but whatever. Also notable is that at Omega, we bet Eric that he couldn't eat everyone's (there were like 8 of us) garnishes in under three minutes. He did it in like thirty seconds, but was fooled into believing that he was just a little too slow and that he'd have to buy lunch for everyone. He was so sad and disappointed! Hilarious.

Anyway, that's about all there is to the story of that night.

Months lated, a bunch of us went to Florida after we all graduated. One of Mike's roommates, Frank, had a timeshare in his family, and for graduation, he got it for a week for us.



There's a group picture of everyone that made the trip, minus the goat (Winston) that was purchased and returned after it made horrible noises all night. The prince is the second from the left, Eric (we'll get to him in a second) is front and center with the red hat, and I am all the way to the right, with my ex, Mike. I was pretty much accustomed to being the only girl (or in this case, one of the only girls) in a group of a billion guys. I guess I just get along well with boys. Don't know why. Because I love basketball and hate drama? I dunno.

The trip was an absurdity. We were quite focused on one thing.

And that thing was drinking.

Here's what the refrigerator looked like when I arrived.



As you see, the only food in it is a can of parmesan cheese. Don't get me wrong, we definitely ate, but that was not the focus. Funny how I don't remember where the food was kept, though, ha. Also, keep in mind that things such as Tequila were in the freezer, and that several trips were made to the liquor and grocery stores on St. George Island that week.

It was just before one such trip that a big change was made. We were all sitting around, when I hear Matt say something. He said some sort of name at the beginning of the sentence that was not mine, so I didn't really pay attention. It was at that point that Mike said, "I really don't think you should ignore the Prince when he is talking to you."

Whaaaaaaaat?

Matt repeated himself, and said "I asked if you needed anything from the liquor store, Princess."

Princess?

I am not really a girly girl, so I am pretty sure that I had never been called princess before, by anyone except for my grandpa. Matt said that since he was the Prince, I'd be the Princess. Works for me, I guess!

Anyway, over the course of the week, we developed a royal family. We decided that Eric would be our jester, because he is hilarious. He re-named himself the Butt Jester, because one of his nicknames is Buttram, because of his last name.

The three of us became pretty close, as though we weren't already. We just were kinda all on the same page. The Butt Jester and I had a weird relationship that involved a lot of cuddling. Yes, I cuddled frequently with my ex's roommate, and my ex didn't care. Like I said, it was weird. He was a good cuddler, though.

Anyway, when the last night of the trip rolled around, many people were tired. Their need to party had been met. They did not have the insatiable desire to party that Matt, Eric, and I shared. So the last night, when everyone was trying to sleep, we were trying to make sure that no alcohol was left behind. Isn't that some kind of legislature that Bush has been trying to get goin'? Oh, no, that's No Child Left Behind. And, for the record, it's stupid. But I digress.

We had been going through the alcohol, and finally, we were almost done. Our game of "Drinking Dredle" (Which is AWESOME, and really needs to be played again) had done a serious number on the supply of alcohol, as did the casual drinking of the week. Guess what was left?

Triple Sec.

I was really into Margaritas at this point (yes, it is supposed to be capitalized), and we had nothing left but triple sec. During our poker playing, the Butt Jester made us special cups (giant styrofoam ones) that said "Prince," "Princess," and "Butt Jester" on them. Awesome.

And, as the night went on, he kept pouring giant "shots" of triple sec into them. We were the only three people doing it.

We then decided that that would be the royal shot. There were three of us, hence the triple. And, well, we didn't have a choice.

So there it is. The story of how the Armanian (we changed the spelling) Empire was formed. The story of how I became the Princess (and yes, it still catches people off guard when they see on Matt's phone that I've sent a text and find out that it's not his girlfriend, Cari, who is one of my best friends, but rather me who is called "Princess" in his phone). And the story of how Triple Sec became our royal shot, and a little justification as to why I got so many bottles of triple sec for my graduation party (and why my mom bought a couple bottles of it for us to drink at said party). There's still a bottle on the party cart!

No, it does not taste good. No, it does not really have much alcohol in it (less than wine, haha). But yes, it has sentimental value. And yes, it almost always illicits a hilarious reaction from the bartenders we ask when the whole group of us needs to do the shot. Usually, people don't even know what to charge us, then they get the managers and ask them, and we usually get it free because it's so weird.

"I'm gonna need eight shots of triple sec please...."

Why can't ghosts have babies?

Because they have hollow weenies!

Ok, that was one of the Halloween textes I got on Halloween.

I suppose I should finally explain the whole bizarre pluralization of "textes."

Actually, maybe not. I just thought of several ways to do such things, and determined that the whole textes thing was one of those "you had to be there" type of deals. I think you'll live just fine without knowing why the plural form of "text" has two syllables. Just a guess.

Anyway, without further ado....

Before I get to the Halloween story, I wanna take a minute or two to talk about my mom's visit to the Mil to go out with us.

She came on the Thursday before Halloween, and I had off school the next day, which was perfect.

She had asked me if it would be ok if she wore jeans out, and I told her of course it would, she just needed to wear a cute shirt and not wear tennis shoes.

Apparently, she discussed this with Marv, who came up with the brilliant idea that my mom should go to a second-hand store and purchase an outfit for the occasion.

So, my mom evidently set out to buy the ugliest shirt ever made, as well as clown shoes.

She struck out on the clown shoes, but I am pretty sure that she hit the jackpot on the ugly shirt.

She got to Milwaukee, and we parked her car in the lot, and she came upstairs, and we hung out and talked. Danielle recounted the story of the night of my knee wounds (update below on that bad boy). Since my mom is not accustomed to our schedule of going out at like midnight, we made a compromise and were going to hit VI Degrees around ten, after going to the sale at Fred and Red Heel (Martini night, holla). My mom tells me she needs to change, and takes a bag into the bathroom. I thought it was kinda weird that she was going into the bathroom to change instead of my bedroom, because my mom is not what anyone would call shy. I just dismissed it to proximity and continued to try to pull my life together and get dressed.

Next thing I know, my mom walks out of the bathroom wearing this getup....

Ugliest shirt ever made?

Check.

Rolled up jeans?

Check.

White heels well after Labor (Lobor) Day?

Check.

White tube socks under said heels?

You got it!

I had to take the picture. Just had to.

Notice Danielle spitting the contents of her mouth into the sink. Or maybe vomming because Mamalicious' outfit is the ugliest thing ever made?

Obviously we had a good laugh at this getup....

Mom said that she asked the lady in the store if the shirt was ugly, and the lady didn't know how to answer because she didn't want to offend my mom if she actually liked the shirt. My mom then clarified that she was looking for ugly, and the store employee said "You found it." Ha.

She didn't stay in this outfit long, because the shirt was made of a fabric that she said felt "creepy." It's true. The fabric did feel creepy. And I have proof if you don't believe me, because my mom gave me the shirt. Lucky me. Perhaps I will raffle it off like we did Humphrey the Humping Dog.

Unfortunately for Mamalicious, we didn't take any more pictures that night, so we have no proof that she doesn't ALWAYS go out wearin a goof ass ensemble. I guess that just means that Mamalicious is going to have to return to the Mil for another night of absurdity!

However, while she was in this shirt, she did take the time to tell me that she holds me responsible for ensuring that should she be unable to dress herself, that she would never be wearing cltohes like the ones she had on, or anything else "doofus."

She told me that if anyone else dresses her in such garb, that I should kick their assses.

And if I do it, for any reason, that I can rest assured that when she dies, she'll haunt my ass.

Oh Mamalicious. Hilarious.

Anyway, mom was very well-received at the usual Thursday haunts, and a great time was had by all. To those of you who were out and showed Mamalicious kindness, thank you. Much appreciated!

And yes, as usual, she made an impression. People (including, but not limited to, the busboy at Ma Fischer's) are still asking about her and commenting on her youthful appearance and attitude. =)

Oh, and here's the picture I took of my knee the next morning, one week after the first images were taken.

Aren't I healing well? I didn't take a picture last Friday morning, but I will tomorrow to update you. You'll be quite impressed methinks.

So Halloween.....

Halloween for me started on Saturday night and ended Tuesday. Yes, I am aware that actual Halloween was Wednesday, and I did quasi dress up for it at school, but I was so sick of it already by Wed afternoon that I was done. Plus, my hand had been cold for a long time, and I didn't feel like going out. I was actually briefly considering a hiatus from going out. Yeah, as I said, my hand was pretty cold.

As you know, I enjoy puns. And, as I would hope you would have given me credit for, I am not the type of girl who goes out dressed as something like a slutty corrections officer or slutty airport security person, or slutty janitor or something. On second thought, a slutty janitor might me so ridiculous it'd be funny. I need lots of keys.....

Anyway, I am not saying that I hate girls like that, I'm just sayin'. Not my thang.

So we decided that on Saturday that we would be party animals. We would dress in party-ish clothes like an animal and sport party hats and noisemakers.

Here I am in my costume with Refugio, my son. Don't we look alike? He's definitely a party animal himself!

Look, he's sayin' hi!

Anyway, Saturday night was when we were fortunate enough to have been invited to Fred and Favio's Eyes Wide Shut party at Tangerine.

But unfortunately for us, due to several things (including, but not limited to talking Drunky McDrunkstein into not driving - success! Go me!) making it difficult for our lives to get pulled together, we got there when it was packed to the point where moving was impossible, and where many of the attendees were quite hammered!

Also unfortunate was the fact that LL had left her wallet at home. We were quite nervous that getting into such a place was going to be an impossibility.

But again, of course there is a fortunately.... Don't you see the pattern?

Fortunately, I was able to text Kevin, who is a big deal and knows people (and has a new appreciation for Anchorman) who was able to get us in.... even without waiting in line! Holla! Love you, Kevin! (and not just because of this, as you know!)

Since it was so crowded, we decided we'd just get one drink, say hi to the hosts and people we know, and then go to North Ave.

This was a good idea in theory, but we had to abort mission before we got to say hi to a lot of people, including Favio.

I don't know what was up with the guys there, but I don't think I have been hit on so frequently and brutally in my life. Just rude. It didn't help that my hand was already cold and that we were on a mission. I just had no patience at all. So we pretty much briefly saw Kevin (sadly, this was pretty much just when he let us in), Fred, Marcellus, and someone else I am forgetting. Fiff.

I was just being a straight-up bitch to any guy I didn't know that tried to talk to me, so we decided it was best to just get the h out of there.

We stopped at Cush and said hi, and then moved on, as it was just super late already.

For the record, no one hit on me there, which was wonderful.

Our final stop was Decibel. Whew. It was already like 130, and I was crabby as a mo-fo, so it was time for a drink. Let me tell you, we pounded drinks like it was our job!

We had Parker (who was on rollerskates and hilarious!) take a picture of us. Aren't we cute little party animals?

We saw a dude from behind, who was clearly white, and clearly wearing a wave cap. Either Danielle or LL guessed that this man was a ninja. I guessed that he was Kip from Napoleon Dynamite. Holla! Correct I was! And he took a picture for us. Check him out!

Next, I almost died. When I was a little one was when Cabbage Patch Kids first came out, and they were the most sought-after toy ever. Pretty much like tickle-me-Elmo was a few years ago. So apparently a lot of trouble was gone through to get me Ty Abbey, who was one of the first CPK's. Well, imagine my surprise when I saw Ty Abbey in giant form!!! Here we are, together again at last after all these years!

Moments later, we saw another amazing costume. This white kid had on a red leather jacket, red pants, a Michael Jackson tshirt, and scary makeup and dark hair. He was Michael Jackson from Thriller. It was completely amazing. So much so, that we actually discussed it amongst ourselves!

Moments later, after he had passed us to get to Shawn (who was the evil spiderman) to get a drink, I hear a voice behind me.

Mandie?

I turn and look. It's Michael Jackson. Yes?

Who is it???

BROSEPH!

Amazing costume, Broseph. Didn't even recognize you at first! Here's a picture of us party animals with Broseph.

We made Cute Little Seth, or CL Seth, take the picture. He is a youngster, at 18, and is a "Glassware Liason" (barback) at Decibel. He was a football player for Halloween.

Here's a picture of me with CL Seth!




How cute is he? And how weird is it that he sees me hammered, and I could've been his teacher if he went to my school? He graduated last year. Weird.

Anyway, that pretty much covered it for Saturday night's festivities. We drank a serious amount in a seriously short time. Three doubles and two shots for LL and I. Less for D, who is considerably smaller and who was driving.

Cut to Tuesday. As you know, Decibel is the place to be on Tuesdays (Einstein!). So that is why they had their Halloween party that night.

Danielle had already turned into a pumpkin. It was time already for her to go back to life at the library. I don't think I've seen her since. Just kidding. But I bet that it has been cumulatively less than two hours. Bru-tal!

Anyway, so LL and I had to think of something else to be, just the two of us.

Once again, I am a lover of the pun.

Here we are.

Do you get it?

Read our necklaces.

That's right, Salt N Pepa. I'm Salt, and thus wearing all white, and she is Pepa, and wearing all black.

Heehee.

Of course, shortly after arriving at Decibel, we were greeted with a big smile by Dustin, who was dressed as himself for Halloween. He wanted me to take a picture of him and his friend, so here it is.

Don't they both look all kinds of surprised? I don't know what they are so surprised about. They asked me to take the picture! They should've expected it. Haha.

Soon after this, we said more hellos and went into the Decible side, where it was Mayhem. Many of the people from Saturday were there, wearing often times the same costumes. Good times. But there were also a lot of people there in different costumes.... This included one of the most amazing costumes I have ever seen in my life.

Ok. Aside from the fact that he is clearly a regular-sized person, this is pretty damn true to life. Er, true to the movie. And you can't tell from the picture, but that lollipop had flashing lights inside that looked really phenomenal inside the dark club.

Another thing that you can't tell from the pictures is that he was handing out everlasting gobstoppers! Saweet! I definitely enjoyed that action.

We went back to Deep Bar, since we often wander to and fro, and talked to Buddha for a bit. We asked him to take a picture, since we wanted to have a full-length picture, without the Oompa, of our costumes.

Here's what we got.

Apparently I wasn't clear when I said why I wanted it to be vertical. Haha. However, if you look closely, you can see that I have a curl stuck to my face, in the style of Salt N Pepa in the "Let's Talk About Sex" video. It was a chore to get this to stay, and I ended up using surgical adhesive to do it!

Since our mission of a full-length picture sans Oompa had still not been accomplished, we asked Buddha to try again....

Thanks, Buddha.

By the way, I am the heaviest I've ever been. I know my stomach doesn't look great. Back up off me! It will soon. I promise.

Anyway, I can't really end this story without attempting to describe one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life.

You see, a couple months ago, Latrell Sprewell began coming in to Decibel on Tuesday nights. He stands in this little corner, and for the most part doesn't really move the whole night. That is, until the Cupid Shuffle comes on. Man, oh man, does he love that song! He knows the dance, and he does it. We always laugh. Always.

Well, Halloween was no exception, but it was exceptional! This is due to the fact that Spree dressed up like Darth Vader, complete with bright green light saber!

Let me tell you this, and please believe me.

There are very few things funnier on this earth to watch than a 37-year-old man who is 6'5" and has absurd hair and an absurd reputation (choking folks, boat repossession, etc) doing the Cupid Shuffle with a light saber in hand. Words seriously cannot describe it.

And finally, on Dunce Day, I'd like to ask you..... Why is it when you get a #1 combination at La Fuente (I went out to eat with my cousin the Thursday after Halloween), they put a random pile of meat in the middle of your plate? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it thoroughly, but still. Kinda weird!

6.28.07-7.8.07

Yes yes, the dates in the title are the dates of Summerfest.

6.28.07

We kicked it off by going to see Jack's Mannequin. That was an adventure.

Danielle and I had decided that we were going to go to Summerfest in search of new boyfriends. We joked about it the whole time, on the way there and such.

As it turned out, we were not in the proper age bracket for that. It seemed that everyone at Summerfest that day was either high-school aged, or middle aged. Granted, the two acts we saw might not be the perfect place to meet people our age, but still....

We got there a little earlier than we needed to, so we saw REO Speedwagon first. Oh man, the crowd for that was amazing.... Lots and lots of denim! There was even some head-to-toe denim, which doesn't shock me.

After that, we made our way across the park to see Jack's. Entirely different crowd. Teeny-boppers.

Apparently, however, we fit in just fine. How absurd is that?

People were guessing our ages at 16. Awesome.

We also had the privilege of meeting a very drunk gent who was in search of a guy with blonde curly hair and an asian girl with... as he said... asian hair. He appreciated our help in trying to locate such individuals, so much so that he kept telling us how awesome we were, gave Danielle his phone number, and even asked us when we are going to go party with him in 'Tosa.

Ummm.... never? Tosa? Really? Haha.

Then we left the concert and took the bus back to the Marquette campus.

At midnight that night, Danielle turned 25. I was only days away from my 25 year and 10 month birthday (which I did not celebrate, for the record.... or maybe I did, inadvertantly!).

We were going to stop at Murphy's so Danielle could take a birthday shot, but we decided instead to go home, because Danielle had to work or go to class or something the next morning.

6.29.07

During the day, whilst Danielle toiled, I mostly laid around, and did a little bit of coordinating. Then she came home, and LL came over. Meanwhile, Mara was recovering from a root canal, which is why she Darryled out, and Derek and Jamie were en route to Murphy's from Madison.

The three of us went to Jimmy John's, then to Murphy's. Immediately when we walked in, I saw Derek and Jamie seated at the bar. Danielle, however, who was not expecting to run into anyone she knew, did not notice them, and walked straight up to Buddha at the bar and ordered up.

It was totally hilarious when Danielle finally noticed them.

We all got drinks, drank them, and then got more to go on the bus. We had Buddha take a picture of the five of us....

LL, then Derek, then Danielle, then me, then Jamie. Fun times! We made Danielle do her shot alone. Sorry, Danielle. We'll do more with you later. =)

Look at her take it down like the champ she is!

Time to get on the bus! It's always fun to take alcohol on school buses. Don't tell my students, though.

LL apparently also finds taking pickles onto said buses enjoyable!

Off to Summerfest! Part of my present to Danielle was getting her tickets to see Def Leppard, Foreigner, and Journey, and then organizing for some friends to meet up with us as a surprise. Yes, D and I love our 80's music.

One thing I was known to do for awhile whilst in college was to put my hair absurd ways and then ask Danielle whether she'd still be my friend if I wore my hair like that all the time.

Bless her heart, she said yes no matter what!

Well, far be it from me to take a picture of something funny.... Check out her hair here! And yes, of course I'd be her friend!

Hot.

At that moment, Danielle may have had the most stylish hair in the Marcus Ampitheater, but as far as overall personal style, I am sad to say that she was not quite at the top.

But who could be with this man around?

Let me tell you, he was a treat to watch. Dancing around, stripping, and middle-aged women were putting dollars in his pants. It was amazing. He was just straight-up belig.

We got a lot of entertainment out of watching him.

We also got a lot of entertainment out of a pair of men who loved Foreigner like no one else ever could, if I had to guess.

These two men, shown below, pounded their fists to the beat of every single song. They even knew when to pause during little points of flair during the songs. It was enthralling.

Unfortunately, I did not catch them at their best. I was trying to be at least a little incognito (not my strength). As we would continue to drink from our Coke's (that we put a "little" Sailor Jerry in, thanks to putting my flask {which I no longer have} in LL's ample bosom), I would definitel get the courage to go ask them to pose with me, but I'll explain why that never came to be.

As you can see, before long, our sexy denim buddy removed the shirt from his head and really stepped the dancing up a notch....

Holla!

Anyway, that is where the pictures stopped. This is due to the fact that a Summerfest rent-a-cop came sprinting over after that last picture to inform me that I needed to put my camera away. I thought it was funny, because I was making zero attempts to take pictures of the stage, just pictures of the goof-asses in the crowd. Oh well.

On the way home, on the bus, there was quite an interesting man sitting in front of me.

He reminded me, mostly in looks, but a little in personality, of Patrick, who I worked with at Photo Express, back in the day. His personality was a little bit more bizarre.

He had quite a bit to say to me.

He talked about how I must get hit on a lot. Just kept talkin'.

Then he went on to say that I looked like someone. Then he said...

"You look like... the most beautiful woman in the world."

This was hilarious. Cracked me right up.

After a short time, he decided that he had figured out who it was that I resembled.

Kendra from the Girls Next Door. What???

For the record, I definitely do not resemble such a woman.

Anyway, after that absurdity, we got back to Murphy's.

Shots were in order, of course, as were Captain and Coke's and Diet Cokes.

And when shots and drinks are a-flowin', people tend to show extra love... But I think that these three love eachother anyway!

Aren't Danielle, Jamie, and Derek cute?

Since we were at Murphy's, and the photo hunt machine was all taken up, we decided to play darts. In the midst of this dart action, we spied our former neighbor Nate Dogg. He is the gentleman whose party we attended the night we "lost" our power. Nate Dogg was out celebrating one of his roommate's 21st birthdays. I guess that is what happens when you hang out at college bars, haha.

Anyway, Nate Dogg was a vast contributor to the idea of getting Danielle drunk, and as such, he purchased many a shot for her, as well as the rest of us. Here is one such shot, which I remember was a delicious Orange Grey Goose. Yummy.

As you can see, LL, Danielle, Jamie and I enjoyed such a shot. Jamie, however, did not enjoy it long-term, as she thinks that that is what set her over the edge and made her vom. Bru-tal!

As alcohol often does, the shot must've improved Danielle's dart game, as she got a bullseye. Look at how proud she is!

It was around this point of the night that we started to miss Mara again, who was watching infomercials and sending out hilarious texts, possibly a partial result from the medication she was on to ease her pain.

We didn't want her to feel left out, so Danielle and I thought we'd send her some messages detailing how she was missed....

...because there just aren't enough pictures of me texting.... By the way, last month's count for texts was something like 12, 953. I think part of the increase was that I have been texting google a lot.

Did you know that you can do that? You can get sports scores, movie times, phone numbers, reverse-looking up of phone numbers, definitions of words, etc. I even used it to find out how old Mick Jagger was so that I could make fun of a certain old man I know (a friend to all raccoons), who happens to be his twin. Haha.

All you have to do is text whatever it is you need to know, such as the movie name and zip code, or "weather" and your zip code, or "Definition of ___," or "How old is Mick Jagger?" to GOOGLE (466453) and the answer comes right back! I've been abusing the hell out of this, and it has been glorious. Thank goodness for unlimited texting! Haha.

Anyway, back to the story.

Remember the Foreigner-lovin' fist-pumpers? They were very inspiring to us, so LL and I tried to emulate them.

As you can see, LL and I had an issue with the serious face.

Apparently, I smile a lot. Who knew?

Last night, which was "Absurdity Day," (Which, for the record, is one of my favorite holidays) as well as my grandpa's 69th birthday (Yeah, mom, I asked him the other day. We were both wrong.), I was told several times to stop smiling. I even had a certain someone grabbing my face to try to stop the smiles (you asked for this, Kevin!). Do I really smile an abnormal amount?

I guess since a lot of people tell me that, even at school, it must be the case. I dunno. I got nothin'.

Anyway, I finally have a picture to put a face to the name. What name, you ask? Nate Dogg. No, obviously not Nate Dogg of the 213, as you can see. But here's our former neighbor with the birfday girl!

As often occurs when I have my camera out, we decided to take a couple more pictures. The first is of Jamie and LL. Awww....

And next is a mildly terrifying picture of Nate Dogg. Bru-tal.

I don't remember clearly, but if I had to guess, he took a page from Buddha's book.... Where if you ask him to take a picture for you, he first takes one of himself.

Here's the self-portrait....

And next we have the group picture that I believe illicited the above heinosity.

We have Jamie, then Danielle, then Derek, then LL, then me. Holla!

Moments after this picture, we had an intensely pleasant surprise. Jamil!

Oh Jamil. He is such a glove. Always smiling! Maybe that's why I like him so much.... We both smile a lot. Something in common! We also are exactly the same height.... When I am barefoot and he wears thicker shoes.

Anyway, he was so nice to see, and even picked me up when he gave me a hug. Awww....

Another hilarious thing about Jamil is that he is 6'7" and his favorite drink is Sex on the Beach... And he has no idea why that is humorous. Oh Jamil.

Anyway, here is a picture of Jamil standing behind Danielle, who was also standing.

Oh hilarious. And how can you look at that smile and not smile yourself? Impossible. What a glove!

Evidently, Jamil was not the only "celebrity" to be at Murphy's that night.

A few minutes after we Jamil returned to his other friends, I was approached by a goth-looking individual.

I had a bit of difficulty hearing him, but I was pretty sure that he asked me if I would like to get my picture taken for "the black guys website."

Whaaaat?

First of all, why would I be on a black guy's website? I mean.... I enjoy black guys.... But I don't really see why I would be on their website.

Second of all, what is this punk-lookin' white dude doing taking pictures for the black guys website?

I was so confused. Then I discovered that they were a band called "Black Ice" and that they had played at the Rave that evening. So much more logical!

Anyway, so I posed with the black ice guy, and here's the picture I found on their website. I tried to look like a rockstar, haha.

Please take a moment while looking at the above picture to notice that the man has bizarre strands of pink coming from his head that are way longer than the rest of his hair.

You can't really see in the picture, but said hair pieces are exactly that. Hairpieces. That's right, they are fake and clipped in.

Now.

I have at times put in fake green extensions under the rest of my hair, because I get bored with my hair and I'm not allowed to change it. Fiff.

However, I am not trying to portray some kind of rock star image. I'm just me, a plain old school teacher. If I wanted to be a rockstar, I would look like a rockstar all the time, damn it. Fiff.

Anyway, one more picture for the night, and that is with LL and Danielle.

Please notice that I am crouching a lot to get down to LL and Danielle's level. Haha.

After Murphy's closed, Danielle, LL, Nate Dogg, and I all went to Jimmy John's. We took our food (which is intensely fast, by the way.... At the Marquette Jimmy John's, the food gets to you so fast - your food is in your hand before you even get your change back. Incredible!) home.

LL and I decided to eat our food in the fitness center. This is because many times that I have been working out there, there have been people in there just watching tv. One even brought food in, and I believe it was La Fuente. Jerk. That made me want Mexican food SO BADLY!

Last week Monday was completely ridiculous. There were literally 9 other people in the fitness center besides me, and I was the only one working out. The rest were all watching "I Love New York."

This past Saturday morning, there was a man laying on the mat when I got in there, with his phone charging, and the lights off. Absurd.

Anyway, LL and I watched whatever weird TV show was on, and then went upstairs and finally all of us to bed.

The next morning, I woke up and wondered where my camera was. This is funny, because the morning after my birthday party, I woke up without my camera. On my birthday, it was LL who had it. On Danielle's, it was Nate Dogg.

I love my camera. You'd think I'd be better at hanging on to it!

~~~~

7.04.07

Things were kinda relaxed for the next few days.... Time to recover, I think. Hit up the normal spots, if my memory serves me correctly.

On the fourth of July, we were invited again to Jason (whose last name I don't know) and Brian Skinner's condo for a cookout. Those are always a good time!

We brought food and wine. I was under the impression that I was getting equal help on the giant bottle of wine from at least LL, and Rob Villanueva.... turns out it was pretty much just me. Also, I thought it would be a fantastic idea to do several shots of good ol' Uncle Pat Ron with Tristan, Fred, and pretty much anyone else who was interested.

As Ryan would say, shots of Uncle Pat Ron are like getting a hug from the inside.

However, too much of our favorite uncle is trouble, and....

This took a toll.

First of all, at one point, I walked out of the bathroom with my cute little skirt tucked into my boyshorts.

Smooth.

It wasn't a huge deal, though. I had almost worn a thong, but decided that since my skirt was pretty short that boyshorts would be a better option. Thank goodness for that decision! And, I picked the boyshorts very specifically. They were a pair that I wore in a lingerie fashion show that I had been in earlier in the year. I figured that hundreds of people had already seen my ass hanging out the bottom of those, so if there were a mishap, it wouldn't be a huge issue.

Did I curse myself or something?

When I came out of the bathroom, a gent we now affectionately know as "All-Seeing Eyes," came to my rescue. He was sitting on the patio when I emerged with my tail in the breeze, and ran all the way into the kitchen to save me from embarrassment. Those All-Seeing Eyes were working, thank goodness!

Next issue.... Christina, Jason, LL, Rob Villanueva and I were cuddling on the couch, which, by the way, is amazing. The biggest and best couch in the United States, I dare say.

At some point, I "fell asleep," and everyone left me. Tristan suggested LL take a picture (Thanks, Jerks!), and that is how this hyper-flattering image came to be.

If that isn't hot, I don't know what is. Bru-tality!

Somewhere before this time, I sent Danielle a text. She was outside.... Due to autotext, it came out "Brutalities I'm hammered?"

I love that it is plural. Not just one brutality, but several.

I also love that this was a question, as though I was unsure as to whether or not I was hammered. I can assure you that I was!

Anyway, this phrase has become a regular part of my speech. I apparently have since sent it to others, including Buddha, who loves it. Evidently, he likes to just say it, especially when he's hammered. He told me last night that he just likes to yell "Brutalities!" from time to time, and I guess people look at him funny. Oh Buddha. You kill me.

And in a final act, someone woke me up quickly. Bad call. I had only one meal all day, unless you count the many mililiters of fermented grapes I had consumed. The end result of this is me vomming....

First, the reverse eating occurred in the front yard. Who does that? Just goes and voms in nice people (one of whom is an NBA player)'s yards?? Apparently, I do.

LL took me home. The vomming continued. Oh her poor car's exterior doors.

What is funny about this, is that Tristan would later reference this night (he took a picture of me struggling on the stoop) and say something about LL taking me home to take advantage of me. It somehow came up that I was screaming, and we found it quite amusing that this was actually true. I was screaming "No! No! Don't stop! Stopping is bad!" at LL. This was due to the fact that LL naturally wanted to stop her car when I was vomming out the window, but we'll just let Tristan think that it was for a more fun, less gross, and less embarrassing reason!

The next day was super brutal.

7.05.07

Fiff. Talk about absurdity day!

Alright..... So on this fine day, my mom, and Kim and Melissa (who you read about in the Racine Wedding blog) and one of Melissa's friends went to Summerfest for the Bon Jovi concert.

Oh man.

First of all, I must remind you that in order to hang out with Kim and Melissa, I have to be drunk.

However, this was a definite struggle because I was soooo hung-ova! (In your head, I should've sounded like Brian Fantana there).

We decided that it would be easiest for all of us to meet up at Murphy's and take the bus to the fest. Since my cousin Christine (Who you can see here as well as here) and her husband Adam (in the first "here" link) both had tickets to this concert as well, they met up with us at Murphy's as well.

So we got to Murphy's, and Joe got to be one of the first people I know in Milwaukee to meet my mom. Innnteresting.

So Melissa shows up after we've already started drinking with her friend that looks like she's about 8. Innnnteresting.

We get on the bus, and I am already ready to be rid of this heinosity.

At this point, I am pretty sure that I hadn't eaten a single bite of actual food the whole day. It was kinda drizzly, and all I really had accomplished was getting dressed and going to get my crock pot from Jason's, since my dishes weren't my main concern when I was vomming on the porch.

So when we got to Summerfest, my mom and Kim's focus was to get beer. Christine, Adam and I wanted food. So food was what we got.

We went to Pizzeria Uno. I do not recommend this at Summerfest. I liked it in the actual restaurant, but I did not like it at the fair. Bru-tal.

So after food, we parted ways, because we had different seats at the concert.

It had been kinda drizzling. Someone made a comment about how we were going to get wet.

My mom, in all her momness, then mentioned that she was already wet.

Thanks, Mom, but I would rather not know about that!

Melissa and I went for alcohol, and got the max you could bring back. She and I were drinking their "wine coolers" which were actually some sort of carbonated wine. We were double fisting, which was continually brutal because of me still being hung over. Yes, at 730pm.

As I had mentioned, I need to drink when I am with these two ladies, because I can't take them anyway.

I think the same might be the case for Melissa, because some of the looks she was giving me when her mom would talk made me feel sorry for her.

There's also the fact that she was wearing a fanny pack and light blue eyeshadow from lashline to lid, and some really hideous tennis shoes. Fiff.

But so began the comments about the apparent hotness of Jon Bon. Personally, I don't see it, but that's just me.

Here are a few more....

(First, from my mom.)

"Nobody has a right to be that hot."

"He looks stoned. I like that stoned look."

"Show more butt!"

"He's not sweating as much as I am. I'm starting to think he's not as hot for me as I am for him."

For the next comment from my mom, I have to give a little background info.

My mom thinks that she killed Dale Earnhardt.

I was on the phone with her when she was watching the race. She bets money on them in NASCAR pools. She "boogida'ed" him, because she wanted him to lose.

To boogida someone is to point your right index finger at someone, and say "boogida."

Anyway, after she "boogida'ed" him, he crashed and died. Now she blames herself.

However, instead of retiring the boogida, she reinforced it. She got a tattoo on her index finger of a lightning bolt!

So anyway, at the Bon Jovi concert, she says "If I can boogida and kill Dale Earnhardt, why can't I do this (she does the 'I dream of Jeanie' thing) and get Jon Bon to come right here?"

Yes, that is hilarious.

However, the most absurd (and terrifying) comment of the night was made by none other than Kim.

They were playing Dead or Alive.

Kim's response?

"More alive than dead, but I'll take him either way!"

Whaaaaaaaaaat????

Gross.

Gross gross gross!!!

Enough about that. Also during the concert, my mom was making comments about Richie Sambora. Apparently, she hates him.

Her best comment about him is as follows:

"He's a slug. A tagalong. He thinks he's Stevie Ray Vaughn, but he's not."

Oh mom, hilarious.

After the concert, we decided we needed to eat more. Well, that was probably mostly me, haha.

It was at this point that I discovered that friend of Melissa had arrived with had urinated in a cup during the concert. In the Marcus Ampitheater. And if I am not mistaken, I think she was actually sitting next to her dad.

Anyway, also while we were sitting there, some girls came over to tell me that there were apparently hot cops around the corner that would make us "cream our jeans." Nice.

So, we had to check these gents out.

They were alright. They were pretty old, though.... Like in their thirties. ^haha^

My mom then thought it was a good idea to tell them to make sure that they watched over Danielle and I, since apparently they normally patrolled my neighborhood. She also thought it would be a good idea to start giving them my phone number. And, since this was a period in my life where I was drunkenly giving it to everyone who asked, I gave it to them.

A couple days later, I got a call from Officer Mike who wanted to have a drink with me. He left me a voicemail, and I never called him back. Brut swoop!

Then we took the bus back to Murphy's and had a couple more drinks. Then Kim dropped me off at home, and dropped my mom back at home. It should be noted, however, that she did offer me more can coozies from her daughter's wedding. Apparently, people didn't all take theirs, and so there were extras.

How could anyone pass up those treats?

7.06.07

This day wasn't that amazing, but I definitely got into Bar Louie without my ID with Cory, which was kinda exciting. I felt like ass. I really had a bad cold. I wanted to die, and didn't want to go out at all. After Bar Louie, we went to some hotel where I saw cocaine for the first time. Weird.

07.07.07

This was brutal. Apparently, this was my friend Jon's 27th birthday. Since it was 07.07.07, he decided that he would try out his luck at the casino. AT SEVEN AM!

Whaaaaaaat??

So I went to the casino at 7am. Didn't gamble, just walked around with Jon.

I was feeling really kinda sick still, and had to leave early (like at 8am!) to go home and back to bed.

So I did.

7.08.07

Ever since the incident where I exposed my boyshorts to everyone at the cookout on the fourth of July, I had been getting offers from All-Seeing Eyes to hang out, which I had been declining due to hanging out with my mom and being deathly ill.

Decided that I needed to go out and see Lupe Fiasco and Brian McKnight on the last night. Apparently, I could've met the Raccoon Whisperer, as he was out with All-Seeing Eyes earlier. So I met up with All-Seeing Eyes and we went. I think I left my personality at home, though. I was so tired and sick feeling.

I pretty much stood there. Afterward, we went to All-Seeing Eyes' apartment, and he showed me video clips of him on the news, and then took me home.

Funny story from later, about All-Seeing Eyes.... I would sleep over to cuddle later (JUST CUDDLE, for the record), and in the middle of the night, I apparently drunkenly rolled over and said to him, "This is so fucking odd."

Who does that?

Me.

And on that note, I am going to go home, pack my bags, and move to Morocco and become an exterminator.

Ok, I am just kidding. It is "False Confessions Day," and "World Hello Day."

In addition to Thanksgiving, tomorrow is "Make your own country day!" Who would make their own country?

Anyway, have a safe and happy holiday.

=)

Devin Harris + Denim Night = One Helluva Weekend!

Oy. The time was Memorial Day weekend. Friday, to be exact. I had been having quite the terrible week, and was ready to go to bed. Way crabby. I was having some issues with the part-time job I had taken, and their scheduling. So I came home from school, and went to bed.

After a couple hours of napping, I was ready to rally. I went tanning and worked out and showered. When I was coming home from tanning, I ran into Nathan, one of the more normal people that lives in our building, in the elevator. He was with a friend who had a site for sore eyes in his hand - a guitar from the game guitar hero. I didn't even see that Nathan was with him, and made a comment about how I love guitar hero, and then Nathan invited us up later.

So after I got ready and such, I informed Danielle of our plan - first up to Nathan's to play Guitar Hero, then off to Can's, then finishing up at Murphy's (at least that was the plan).

Danielle was a little leery of going up and hanging out with these people that she didn't know. She's a little on the shy side. While getting ready, though, we shared a bottle of champagne, which I drank most of. Brut.

Once we were ready, we went upstairs to Nathan's. Oh boy, was that interesting! Nathan was pretty intense.

We played some guitar hero, and I have got to say.... Danielle is quite the phenom! She played lead on Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the name of" and it was most excellent (can you tell that I am watching Wayne's World while typing this?). So good. I was impressed.

Nathan gave Danielle a beer (if memory serves me correctly), and made me what was formerly the strongest Captain and Diet in the History of the United States (that record was beaten this past weekend at Del's wedding - blog soon to follow), and then the four of us (Nathan, Danielle, Nathan's friend who brought over the Guitar Hero - I believe his name was Mike) did shots of Jack Daniel's. That was obviously just what the doctor ordered.... We hung out a little bit.... Then we decided to call a cab and move on.

Now one thing I've learned is that I attract absurdity. Even the cab ride was no exception.

The cab driver was from Africa - some French-speaking country. Since this was about a month ago, I can't remember which. Also in the car was an infant, obviously. Anyway, I spoke French with the cab driver the whole ride to Can's. Wahoo! That's always a good time.

We get to Can's, and the normal absurdity is in place. Matty, one of Danielle's "old friends" is there, and he is one of the most ridiculous people life has to offer. Danielle was immediately approached as well by some weird farmer guy who was hitting on her, which was definitely amusing!

Then we are approached by some lame guys, and then some other lame guys.... This one lame guy informs me that he's an athlete. Call me a douche (although I'd rather you didn't) but ever since Ous came into the picture, I've had a little bit of a higher standard when people say they are athletes. I mean, it's one thing to say "I play this sport..." But to say that you're an athlete is another story.... While it may be true, I think it just seems pretentious to say.

Anyway, this kid is telling me he's a boxer or something, and his name is Dustin. Then all of the sudden, I see a couple familiar faces....

Buddha, who works at Murphy's and was in a fashion show with me, and Devin Harris.

Devin Harris, for those of you who don't know, is a Badger Alumni, and current member of the Dallas Maverick's. He's a mutual friend of Sharif Chambliss, Freddie Owens (obviously, since those two were also Badger Basketball players, and Freddie and Devin were childhood friends), and apparently Buddha.

So I stroll up to these individuals, and Buddha and I hug our hellos. He introduces me to Devin, and I immediately tell him that I used to hate him, because he would always get to skip to the front of the line in bars in Madison, and I 'd still have to wait. He apologized, and we kept talking.


I obviously needed to get a picture with him. I think he looks kinda creepy in it, like some sort of peeping tom. When I told him about it later, he asked what he's peeping at. I have no idea. You got any ideas?


At some point, which I don't remember, numbers were exchanged. On some sort of bizarre mass level - I ended up with both Devin's number and Buddha's, and them with mine, and somehow that Dustin the boxer ended up with my number as well. That ended up being quite the confusing scenario.

Anyway, apparently Buddha and Devin were having some sort of A-bar and we were invited. Sounds good, we thought. BUT, I had one priority over hanging out with these lovely gents, and that was a grilled cheese sandwich or two.

So D and I go to the George Webb by our house, and get some food. That was absurd as well. We are sitting there forever and don't get waters. Danielle spies some attractive young pups behind me and so I ask them if they are leaving if we can have their waters. We are very thirsty ladies. They let us have their waters, and they move on.

Meanwhile, I am texting Devin Harris, and he's being interesting. I told him that I was focused on food, and he told me to let him know when I am ready to focus on him. Then someone calls, and I somehow get to be under the impression that it is Devin, but from a different phone. Turns out no, but I won't learn that for awhile. At some point, too, I was on the phone with probably Devin (although I now have doubts), and I made fun of his jeans, because they had rhinestones on them - and he said something about how his watch matched, and asked me if I had seen it. I had. It was approximately the sparkliest watch in the United States. Another phone call comes in, and I thought it was Devin from a second cell phone. He was looking for Dustin the boxer... Hmmm.... Anyway....

Moments later, the gentlemen who had just left who had given us the waters returned. They wanted to talk to us. Thought we were cute or something, which was exciting, since Danielle thought the one kid was cute.

When I say "kid," I am not kidding. (ha!)

Turns out, these boys are 19, and had fake ids and were visiting friends.

As we're standing around talking after our meal, the one that Danielle had found attractive just starts giggling and covers his mouth. I ask him what he's laughing at, and he basically says, "I just can't believe you guys are 25."

Brut.

I didn't bother to correct him about the fact that Danielle would soon (Friday) be 25, and that I am only a stone's throw away from 26 (brut).

So then Danielle and I decide to walk home. What, do we think we're in Madison or something? I know it's only a couple blocks, but poor choice!

We also decide that it is too late to go to Devin and Buddha's a-bar party, so we go home and go to bed.

Next morning, I wake up, and feel like complete ass. Brut.

I go in the living room, and my shoes are strewn about. Living room was already a bit of a struggle, because I had been playing 8-bit Nintendo there recently.... Check it out.

How my shoes ended up like that shall remain forever a mystery.

Now there is one way that I can always just tell that I had a ridiculous night the night before.

The biggest clue is my clothes. If I have it at least somewhat mentally together, they will be in my room. This is whether I have it in me to take a shower or not.

If, however, the night is ridiculous, my clothes will be anywhere but my bedroom.

In the picture above, you see my clothes outside my bedroom door, in the kitchen, like shoes outside a Japanese teahouse. And no, the denim jacket on the left was not worn with the dark jeans in the foreground.... What kind of ridiculous person wears head-to-toe denim????

Anyway, Danielle emerges from her room moments later. Why we are awake at like 9am is a mystery. We are kinda recapping the previous night's events when my phone rings. The caller id says, "Devin Harris." I answer, and a voice says, "Hello Mandie." We talk a couple seconds, and he asks if I know who he is. I tell him "of course I do" and that he's Devin Harris. He suddenly has to go, and is going to call back later.

So I commence to talking to Danielle and we wonder why he is calling me so early in the morning, and why he doesn't have anything better to do.

Then Danielle decides that she has to get to work, and I go back to bed.

Curti texts me, and we discuss the possibility of me going to Madison that day.

See, the thing is, I was supposed to work. I agreed to pick up this girl's patio shift, and wasn't sure what to do. I was already fed up - this place had messed up my schedule and availability like four times in two days, and I was quite annoyed.

So I talked to Curti. Curti and friends had been doing some theme nights.... Like when they printed their own tshirts with ridiculous phrases on them and such. I told him that I would come up, and thus quit my job, if we could do a theme night.

I saw this shit coming a mile away. Last summer, Lers had a job at Applebee's. She worked a few shifts. Then, I had a week off of nannying, and decided that it would be glorious to spend it with Lers and Meams in Milwaukee, especially since it was during the week of Summerfest.

Lers and I were very accustomed to seeing eachother for a couple hours a day every day, and me moving to Madison was a difficult adjustment.

Anyway, first day in Milwaukee, we decide to go to the beach with several friends.... Lers is supposed to work that evening, which was fine - I was just going to meet up with Troy (ha, we actually tried to do that!), or hang out with Meams or Zak and AY and Kenny or something...

Well, the fun started getting better and better, and the next thing we knew, we were in the bathroom at the f'ing beach, and she was calling in to work.

Next day, she's supposed to work again, but she ends up getting drunk at breakfast and dropping her new Razr into a Jagerbomb, so that doesn't occur either, and she can't even call in.

Next thing we know, Lers is a jobless bum for the summer. I think I will actually devote an entire blog to that ridiculous week.

Anyway, I'm talking to Curti, and he decides that we will have a theme night. B'bye, job at Hi-Hat. I don't know who I was kidding with that one.

Theme night discussions continue, and we decide it will be denim night. The people involved are Curti and I (obviously), as well as Pet, Ben, and Rob. I am the only girl, as well as the only person who does not work at Brothers. Ah well.

I set out to acquire my outfit.... I will leave its description a surprise, and you can just see it later, but I will tell you that I bought it at a store "Rainbow" that my students frequent, and that it was purchased at Grand Avenue Mall, which closes at 7pm daily because of crime. Holla.

I pull my life together and shower, and set out on my way to Madtown, excited for the night ahead which is sure to be fun.

On my way, I talk to Lindsay, who is Andy's sister. Love her. I had tons of fun with her in LA when I visited. She was in town visiting, and we made plans to meet up later. We had a bad connection, so I had some difficiulty explaining denim night. Oh well.

I get to Curti, Pet and Ben's house, and let myself in. I used to knock, but got yelled at for that. Apparently, I'm part of the family. I feel so special!

Anyway, no one is upstairs, so I make my way downstairs. The boys were ready for me. They knew that by now I just let myself in, and evidently could hear my arrival. I walked down the stairs, and this is EXACTLY the first thing I saw. They were posed and ready for me!

I don't think anything could've prepared me for that sight. I knew they would be wearing head-to-toe denim, as that was the plan. I did not know, however, that they were going to buy the tightest pants in the United States. I also did not know that there would be suspenders involved, that they'd have their shirts buttoned to the sky, and that Pet and Rob would have their pants rolled in such a "fashion." Oy! Glorious.

I should've known, though. This was not my first time meeting any of these gentlemen.

Honestly, I don't know how I could've expected any less. These are habitual line-steppers we're dealing with.

Actually, I wouldn't have been surprised if Ben had been wearing an outfit similar to mine, or a mini skirt or something.

I doubt that it's evident from the pictures I've shown so far (which are, like many others from this entry, courtesy of Curti - thanks, Curti!), but Ben is actually wearing women's boot cut jeans. As you can see below, they fit him quite well....

How hot and irresistable is that? Apparently too much for Rob to be able to stay away.... But who could blame him, really?

Rob has no ass. Anyway, I get into my getup and we hang out a bit.... It is hilarious to watch these fellows moving around in their clothes. Whenever they drop something, it is a huge struggle to bend over and get it, due to the tightness of their ensembles. I, too, am at a disadvantage of how much I can move because of my outfit.

Then we get in cars and start heading to the Brodeo, which is the most appropriate name for Brother's ever, especially on this particular evening.

In the car, the discussion turns again to our clothing, and I say something that gets me immortalized on Curti's facebook quote section....

"I was worried about cameltoe, until I saw you guys!"

But it was true! It was a struggle for me, but then when I saw these four characters, I decided that no one was really going to be looking at me anyway!

We also, on the way, concocted a story. We decided that we were going to tell people that Curti and I had just gotten married, and that we wore wedding in the ceremony and were having our reception at Brother's.

Here's our first wedding photo, complete with Rob and Ben showing the shocker!

Yes, I am wearing a one-piece denim halter that zips up the back. And yes, I have my hands in my pockets to pull the outfit down a bit, to avoid the aforementioned cameltoe issue. I am by no means a tall individual, but I found that this "onesie," as it would be called, really rode up like nobody's business. (And it wasn't anybody's business, either!).

Now obviously, like anyone who goes out to the bars as a fivesome wedding party dressed in head-to-toe denim, our mission was to project a serious amount of class and distinction.

So we thought it'd be classy to take a "wedding photo" with all of the "groomsmen" pretending to look at my tatas, unbeknownst to the poor groom.

Here's the result of that!




The next picture is Mara's idea. She, by the way, was stunned by our appearance. Who wouldn't be? We ARE quite the stunners, even if you ignore the outfits. Let's be honest.

In the meantime, we do not fail to notice a man who himself is dressed in head-to-toe denim, and not part of the group, staring creepily in my direction. Brut.

We do a group shot, aquire drinks, and decide to head upstairs.

It is there, that Ben and Rob decide to flaunt their asses (or lack thereof) for the camera. Thanks, boys! HAWT!

With no surprise to anyone, the homoerotic posing continues. Thank goodness! And this time, Petey's involved.... Amen!

We then discovered that the new cocktail waitress at Brother's is only slightly taller than Rob when he's on his knees. She's so little, even smaller than Danielle, by a lot! How cute?!

Then Linds arrived. She's so beautiful, don't you agree? We only saw eachother for a couple minutes, but it was apparently long enough for me to leave the impression in her mind that I looked quite ghetto, which is what she told her brother. JACKPOT!

Next, it was apparently completely necessary for me to put Rob on like a backpack, wrapping his suspenders around me. And, as usual when I take a picture with Rob, we had to "melt the camera" with our sexiest faces. This always makes me look as ridiculous as possible. Thanks, Rob.

Man I look good.... And sober.... Or something.

And, of course, the obligatory picture with the girls.... Except Danielle is missing. :-(

If you look closely at the picture above, you can see some writing on my bosom. That is because I had noticed a couple things that were upsetting to me. First of all, Curti was signing EVERYONE's chests.... Men and women alike! And he was writing things such as "These belong to me" and "property of Curti." And to make matters worse, people were writing similar things on him! My denim husband!

Retallation was necessary, so I went to Ben and Rob. They obliged and wrote on my chest.

Here's a shot of them proudly admiring their handiwork.

I would also later get Pet to sign my chest in a bright red marker, very heavily. His work would melt in my sleep and in the morning, my chest would look like I had a serious and unfortunate allergic reaction to something.

By sheer coincidence alone, LL and Curti's friend Abby were wearing nearly matching fuscia shirts. They became my bridesmaids.

You know that saying "It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt?"

Well, on Denim Night, it's all fun and games until someone cries.... Or at least almost cries.

Apparently, Curti has a friend/aquaintence named Kari. We had her completely convinced by our wedding story. Yes, I am serious.

She was so convinced that she almost started crying!

She was gushing, and kept saying things like "I am so happy for you guys, and you are such a beautiful bride, and I knew that Curti had a friend Mandie who was a model, and..." and so on.

First of all, beautiful bride? In denim? Yikes.

Second of all, how cute is she for thinking all of those nice things and being that genuinely happy for Curti and me, some chick she doesn't know??? So sweet!

So we started to feel bad and told her we were just joking. Here's a picture of her....

On the right in the above picture is Dustin, the Wing Master. He is the man who cooks the wings at Brothers on Wednesdays. Apparently, he is similar to Curti in that he has no game whatsoever (Curti's words, not mine), except apparently even worse and more shy? I don't know.

Somehow, though, he and I got pushed into the women's bathroom, and folks were holding the door shut. How 8th grade is that business? So we stood in there and talked a little until we realized that we could get out. He was apologizing profusely about his friends' behavior of pushing him in there. I was fine with it - they were my friends, too, and I was accustomed to their shenanigans. I am pretty sure that it was at that point, when we were still locked in, that I was gushing about how his wings were amazing, and that I would drive 90 miles for them, and that his wings were better than those at Brother's in Milwaukee. These were all true statements.

True statements that he would not remember - when I was back at Brother's for Wingding Wednesday last week, I told him that I had driven 90 miles for his wings. I had also said hi using his name.

He responded "You don't know how much that means to me. What's 90 miles away?"

He didn't remember. I explained that Milwaukee was, and asked if he remembered denim night.

He said, "Denim night?"

I told him I'd talk to him about it later, but never got around to that. Perhaps next time.

Anyway, when we figured out that we could leave, I suggested leaving in style, so I went to his side, wrapped my arms around his neck and jumped up so that I was on his hip with my legs wrapped around him. His friends were amused, so he kinda laid me on the pool table and pretended to make out with me.

Then it was time to go. So we did.

We got back to the boys' house, and ordered pokey sticks, because I had been craving them. Yummy!

We were all kinda worn out, as it had been quite the night!

Look at Ben, all tuckered out, and look at how Kat is so attracted to him in his denim! That attraction is only going to increase, and that's a promise!

It was at this point that it was decided that I was not going to be the only person who got to enjoy the onesie. Rob, who is 6'4", decided he needed to try it on. So I put on my PJs and passed the glorious suit along. As you can see, Rob put me to shame.

Oh man, that's..... attractive. But wait! If you can handle more hotness.... Look at this one!

Yum yum!

And fortunately, Rob was so comfortable in the denim onesie that he could play pool.... He wasn't limited to just.... *cough* posing sexily *cough*.

And if you think that the sexiness stops with Rob, you are so wrong.... Ben definitely needed to get in on it (with Rob's help of course, since Rob is now experienced in these matters).

Teamwork! Stella helped, too.

There was an effort made to zip the garment up, but the zipper somehow got split. I have no idea how, though! ;-P

Of course, the back shot was necessary. Looks like it fits him well, though, right? Like it was custom made, just for him? I agree.

Hmmmm....

Apparently, Ben's girlfriend Kat loved it. She even told me that she will take me to lunch because I afforded her the opportunity to see Ben in such attire. Yes, to be honest, I find that bizarre. I had always made an effort to keep the guys I've dated OUT of girl's clothes. Kat did, however, get more than a handful of Ben in the onesie, as you can see.

Not only that, but she also got the opportunity to try on the onesie for herself. In this next photograph, you can see her in the midst of putting this glorious piece of clothing on her body. You can also see where we duct taped the top because of the high-quality thread that was scratching my sensitive skin on my tatas!

Now look at her. She has the most dignified look on her face! And who wouldn't, in a denim halter one-piece jumpsuit?

And, as I am sure that you expected, the fun didn't stop with Kat. Remember the tiny little cute cocktail waitress? The one who is only slightly taller than Rob when he's kneeling? Oh yes. She tried it on as well!

Curti tried to put it on, but it stopped at his hulking calves.

We tried to talk the Gumby's delivery man to try it on, but in a strange turn of events, he was a douchebag. I offered him 39 cents to wear it, and he declined. Said he'd do it for $10, but at that point we were sick of him and just wanted him to leave. Why would we pay him a ton of money to put it on when Ben and Rob were there to do it for free?

That was pretty much the end of that night, but it is not where the story ends.

The next morning, I left my onesie with the gentlemen. I figured they'd have more use for it now than me, and I didn't think it was that flattering to my figure anyway - haha.

A couple days later, my phone rang again. Caller ID said "Devin Harris." I answered, and he asked if I knew who he was again. I asked him if he planned on asking me that every time we talked, and if he just liked hearing his name or something.

Well, it turns out, he had a good reason to ask if I knew who he was.

He was Dustin the boxer!

He explained to me that Devin had his phone for a little while, which is why I thought that it was Devin's second cell phone. He told me that if I wanted, he would tell Devin to call me, but he thought that Devin was busy at that moment. I told him not to worry about it, all I wanted to tell Devin was that he looked creepy in the picture we had taken. He then invited me to some cookout, that Devin apparently also was going to be attending.

After I got off the phone, I texted the other number I had for Devin, and said "Apparently I've been texting your friend Dustin for the last couple days. I just wanted to tell you that you look creepy in the picture we took."

He wrote back, "Who is Dustin?"

I explained that I had texted his friend Dustin, the boxer whose phone he had on Friday night.

Turns out, Devin doesn't know anyone named Dustin. Had no idea who it was. He told me tha the had only talked to me and texted me on the number that we had been using at that time.

Brut.

I explained to him what Dustin had told me, about spreading the message along to him and such, and about the cookout.

We came up with a plan. When Dustin was to call me back later that night, I was going to tell him that I'd go to the cookout, but that I'd just go with Devin, because I am bad at directions. I was then to tell him that he should just call Devin and give him the address and directions to the place.

We thought it was a brilliant plan, because it would force this guy to either continue to lie to me, which could prove entertaining, or he would have to confess that he didn't actually know Devin, and that he was lying.

So I go to BW3's with Nicole and her brother, and Dustin calls.... I had explained the plan to Nicole, and she thought it was great.

I answered the phone, and as luck would have it, Dustin was actually outside of BW3s. So I hid when he came in, and he left. Brut. Talk about a backfire!

Anyway, he left, and I just stopped answering his calls. I don't want to deal with someone who lies to me, especially not about being friends with Devin Harris. I was never impressed that Freddie and Sharif were friends with Devin, so why would I be that this guy was? I do admit, though, that if it had been Shaq that was in question, I would've been impressed (no offense to Devin - haha).

So now I am thinking that when the guy was talking about his watch, that I was actually talking to Dustin, or one of Dustin's friends.

Oh boy. What an absurd weekend! And yes, it was totally worth giving up my job in the style of Lers!