My Sweet Sixteen +10!

Time to blog my birthday. It has been less than two months! Not a ton less, but less...nonetheless. What? How absurd is that sentence?

Anyway, Cari came up for it, which was nice. It's always wonderful to see my nexus. And in a little bit of hilarity, she had taken the train, and since she had a bbq to go to during the day, she borrowed my car. She told me she was going to put gas in it. I jokingly told her to vaccuum it while she was at it, because I had spilled trail mix in it when I was on a road trip for a shoot in Michigan that week (and by "that week" I mean "several months before, but I don't want you to know how lazy I had been by not cleaning my car over a six month span"). Anyway, she did it! She said she wasn't sure if I was kidding.... But I definitely had been!

Anyway, we got a late start getting ready, and then the four of us went out to eat. It was supposed to be a much bigger group, but people Darryled out and were running late, as usual. No big thang, though, we still had fun!

We went to Pizza Man, which is on North Avenue. LL had always wanted to go there, because apparently it is run by gay men, and the sign is shaped like a giant erect penis. I don't know about the gay men, but I definitely see the penis.

Anyway, I had been craving Fetuccini Alfredo (macaroni and cheese for adults) for a while, so that is what I ordered. I don't remember what the other ladies ordered, but I remember thinking that mine tasted weird, and that LL's what the best. The cheese bread was phenomenal, though.

We also ordered wine for all of us to share. Cabernet Sauvignon is my favorite, and since I was the birthday girl, and since I probably like wine more than the other three ladies, I got to pick the wine we got.

Little did I know I was ordering wine from a box! Like a giant juice box, but filled with Cab. It was yummy.

Here's Danielle and Cari with their cute haircuts and with the box of wine....



And here's a closeup of the box itself. I love that it is called Bandit. That makes it fun, too!



After dinner, we went straight over to Decibel, which was really weird. Decibel itself wasn't even open yet. I would say that I had never been to such a place that early in my life, but that is definitely an untruth. When I did the Drambuie Den promo, I was there at like 1 on a Sunday, and then the days of the promo itself, I was there at like 6:30 pm. Bru-tality!

Anyway, so we just kinda sat around in the Deep Bar side. The Badger game (vs. UNLV) was on tv, so we kinda watched that and talked, enjoyed a cocktail, waited for people to arrive. You know.

We had arranged for the party to start at 10, to make it a reasonable time for people who aren't like us who go out at times of the day other than post midnight, haha.

A photographer that I shot a jewelry catalogue with knew my birthday and party were coming up, since we are friends on myspace, and asked if he could come and take pictures. He also works for themilwaukeescene.com, so he kinda speciailizes in event and bar photography. I thought it'd be nice to have a bunch of candids from the night, so I was excited to have Rafal there.

In the first picture, you see me talking to Arinze. Arinze works security at Decibel. I met him when I did the Drambuie Den promo. He has an amazing body. He is a personal trainer, and his abs and torso are ridiculous! Whenever I introduced him to my friends that night, I told them that Arinze doesn't know how to shake hands, and that you are just supposed to rub his chest and stomach, haha. Also, he gives the best hugs ever. Seriously. LL and I get the hugs every week, and the phenomenon is spreading! Apparently that first night I met him, he gave me a hug, and I enjoyed it so much I proposed to him. Whaaaaaat?

Totally didn't remember it. So the next time I saw him, which I am pretty sure was right before I went to Vegas (like the night before, when I was at Decibel until forever, and time warped to Vegas), I proposed again, and he told me that I had already proposed, and that he had already said yes. Who does that?

I don't know if I am having deja vu, but I feel like I may have blogged the Arinze proposal story. If so, I apologize. I just think it's funny.

And, it's relevant. Because here's a candid of me talking to Arinze! You can also see part of Joee's smile, and Cari (in my dress and bracelet, haha) on the right, watching the game.



And here's Arinze and LL, having a serious conversation about SOMETHING. Haha. Arinze sure does wear a lot of wristbands!



Next is a shot of the little group that was there so far. LL, then me in Arinze's arms, then Arinze, then Mara (who came from Madison) and Danielle, then Cari, then Jamie (also in from Madison). Fun times! I love my legs and shoes in this pic. Haha. Sexy shoes!



When we were planning the party, we were going to get a table or two in VIP. Then people were not really responding, so we cancelled it. Then Dustin made us an offer we couldn't refuse, so we took it. In the meantime, however, Drew booked the table we had reserved in VIP to someone else, which was totally fine. One of the reasons that I was ok with cancelling our table anyway was that I tend to be flighty and all over the place anyway, especially at Decibel (I've been known to disappear for a half hour when I go to the bathroom because I end up talking to thirteen hundred people en route), so I wasn't at all upset about this news.

Dustin, however, wasn't having it. Here he is discussing it with us.



The solution would be to kick people out of a certain section in Deep Bar and give us our bottle for even cheaper than initially planned. We agreed.

Here's a shot of Jamie, Cari, and Danielle in our little VIP section.... Something good must've happened in the Badger game, haha.



As usual, since I get service sometimes in the Deep Bar section, I had many texts coming and going. That started to get old fast. I just wanted to hang out with all of my friends who were there! LL, nice facial expression! Haha.




Ugh. Looking at pictures from this night kinda make my hand cold. As I am sure that I mentioned in previous blogs about Vegas, I was lacking my luggage at this point still. That means that I was wearing reject make up, and I didn't have my precious flat iron. I should name that thing, it's my baby. Anyway, though, looking at pictures from this night.... I look straight up rough!



Good. I am not the only one caught texting. Cari had to talk shit to her brother, because the Badgers won, and his team lost. Haha! Go Badgers!

Then, as you can kinda see, Jamil, Ous, Broseph, AC Gilman and Lers arrived. Lers rolls deep with an entourage (almost all of whom were my friends as well, and you'll see pics of them soon). Here's another candid shot of us enjoying ourselves, because it was a celebration, bitches!



Wow, I am sure being lady-like here. Bru-tal!

Almost every time Ous and I are out in public and around other people, I feel like a picture needs to be taken. It just cracks me up to be next to someone who is 6'10". And Jamil's smile is a hand-warmer. Rafal, the photographer, wanted one of me between them for humor's sake, so here it is! It cracks me up how many pictures Ous takes where he looks hammered. Then man has never even tasted alcohol!



Thoes two gentle giants borrowed my car to come to the party, which was hilarious, because the next time I went to use it, both seats were back all the way and reclined. Just how I like it! Ok, I only like that when I am sleeping in the passenger seat on a long trip, haha.

Next is a picture of LL and Mara. Awww. So cute! And in the background, you can see Broseph on the left, and then Cari and Joee on the right. Smiles all-around! And Badger game watching. Haha.



Next picture, we have a candid that was taken right after Lers' arrival. The pictures got a little out of order when I put them on facebook - please accept my apologies!

Here, on the left, is Lers' sister's friend. Then LL, then Juj - Lers' sister. Next we have Lers, whose shirt I love. Then me! What an absurd face! Next is Meams, then AC Gilman, then AC's brother. Quite the group!



And again, all the same people, but I look a little less absurd.



By the way, a comment about my dress.... I bought in May at Fred, which is a boutique on Water Street that I often love. I hadn't worn it before, because I didn't really have occasion to, and it's a little on the scandalous side for me. I love the cut, (which is a little scandalous) but am not really crazy about the leopard print. Not really my thing. It was when I was a freshman in college, but I am over that! Anyway, when I was at Forever 21 yesterday, helping Danielle shop for her Halloween costume, I saw about a billion of those dresses on the rack there. Whaaaaat? That makes my hand so cold. Now a bunch of stupid girls are going to be walking around wearing a dress that I thought was kinda unique. Damn.

Anyway, as I said, I am more fond of the Decibel side than the Deep Bar side. Plus, I was getting mightly tired of texts. Normally I love them, but there were all these people with all these issues with getting there and getting in. I had never known that people had problems getting into Decibel, but apparently that was not the case the night of my birthday celebration. I was sick of running upstairs to talk to the bouncer, and getting Dustin to sort things out, and blah blah blah. And, apparently, the bouncer was acting like he didn't know what was going on. Blah blah blah. Lame. I found it amusing, though, that one of my friends who came down from Madison went across the street to Cush, where they knew of my birthday party, but the bouncer at the door at Decibel pretended like he didn't. Lame.

Anyway, we were kinda stuck in the Deep Bar side until our bottle was gone. So, we started giving drinks away like they were candy. Then LL decided that we should just make it rain and pour it into everyone's mouth to get rid of it in a hurry. So that is what we did. LL did most of the pouring. This first pic, though, is her getting it poured into her mouth. As I said, they are not in proper order!

Getting ready....

Make it rain!

Joee's turn....

LL again, this time with Cari pouring instead of Mara....

Then Cari thought it appropriate for us to do our obligatory body shot. This occurs almost every time we see one another, and definitely is a birthday tradition! Holla at ya uncle pat ron!

More texting. Ugh. And my hair is so bru-tal!

AC Gilman thought that the photographer situation was hilarious. He kept telling Lers that he couldn't believe that my birthday party had paparazzi. He wanted the paparazzi to take a picture of us, like I did with Ous (who Gil LOVES and dreams about and is constantly trying to recruit for his intermural bball team) and Jamil, so that's what went down.

Then I went over by Meams, and gave her a hug, which apparently surprised her. She just looks pumped! Haha.

Awww, cuteness!

I think this should've been the first picture of pouring the pink into our mouths, because I am pretty sure I went first, but seriously.... Will this bottle ever end? Come on!

Lers' turn!

Now it's Cari's turn!

Apparently, it was a little messy! Haha. And look how cute LL looks with Ous, with him practically kneeling to talk to her, since she's so short.

It was also messy when I poured in Jamie's mouth, as she freaked out and got pink vodka in her eye. No pictures of that, though!

Next we have a super cute picture of Lers, Nads, Jerry, Juj, Juj's friend, and Meams. Awww! I'm so glad they all came out! Wish they could've stayed out longer and that I could've hung out with them more!

And next we go to the middle bar.... I wasn't over here at this point. In fact, I refuse to go to this bar in Decibel when Alleged Marcus is working, because I don't want him to know I see him back there, haha. Silly Alleged Marcus.

Then the photographer left, and it was my camera the rest of the night.

Sharif popped in for a couple shots. We went to HS and college together, and he did a stint of playing for the Badgers. It's always a treat to see Reef!

Is it me, or is he kinda doing the shocker with his right hand? Whaaaaat?

Of course I had to take a picture with Curti, who came down from Madison with Rob and came with a bunch of other chicks I don't know.

Wow. I must've been really sober, since I don't remember this picture being taken, and since I look like Samara from The Ring (LL's old roommate). You have seven days.

And I don't know why I was so worried about Reef's hand, because look at mine!

Ok, that picture's a little better, but what is up with my hand again? Seriously? Is that bracelet arm, or what?

And here I am with Broseph too. Still have weird hand action. Am I fondling my upper chest and lower shoulder area? What the hell? I just wanna know!

Here's Broseph with LL and I. Awww. Those two were both in for the long haul that night. LL was because she after-partied all over and left her phone on the stoop at Bayou, which I would get a phone call from each twin about the next day, which was funny. Don't those two talk or communicate telepathically or something? It was also funny because LL would leave her phone at six degrees exactly one week later. She should get a leash for that thing or something!

Broseph was in for the long haul because he ended up sleeping on our love seat, which is far too small for him. I'm pretty sure that when I woke up, and went into the living room, that he was laying there with his ass in between the two cushions, which had separated. Too funny. Couldn't have been comfortable! What a sweetheart, though.

There he is with Jamie and Cari. I loved Jamie's shirt that night! So cute!

Cari, LL, Jamie, and Danielle. I love those ladies!

And the ladies in black.... Mara, Joee, and LL. How cute! I always thought that LL was a few inches shorter than Mara. It's nice to have confirmation, though!

Haha.

Oh, for those of you not in the know.... LL and I always make fun of eachother for being short. I always talk about how I am three feet taller than her. In reality, though, it's only a couple inches (;-P) or, we're exactly the same height.... Haha.

Anyway, there you have it. My sweet sixteen plus ten. Other people were there, but didn't get pictured, like Joe and Terrail, who came from Madison, for example.

I don't know if I am going to be doing many more birthday parties for myself. Although LL did most of the organization (thank you, LL!), it was still really stressful, because it was I who knew everyone there, and who people called or texted when they had issues. I think I will just stick to celebrating birthdays of my friends and random celebrities in the future! =)

Alright.... More to come. Still gotta do Summerfest and Danielle's birthday and the fourth of July.... The last few days might be blog worthy, with my mom's visit, and Halloween.... Plus, there are still a couple more Halloween parties to attend..... Fiff.

Time for me to go have a romantic candle-lit bubble bath. Always nice to have romantic evening.... With myself. Haha.

Either I got thrown out of a moving van by terrorists, or...

(And let me clarify that I mean a van that is in motion, not like.... a U-Haul or something. But hey, I guess it could be a U-Haul. I mean, what the hell do I know? I do know that the van {be it a movingvan or a moving van} was certainly located at some point down by the river! {Watch this video if that reference is going over your head}).

OR, I had a drunken altercation with the pavement and lost.

Thursday night was a roller coaster.

On one hand, I went out in high spirits, because I knew that I didn't have school on Friday, so I was pumped!

On the other hand, I was a little upset, thinking about John going to Iraq soon and me seeing him for the last time before he leaves the next day.

And then I got really excited, because Lers was going to make a rare trip out.... I met up with her and AC Gilman at Taylor's at like 11. For me, going out before midnight = satan. You'll see why.

So I was all pumped about Lers coming out.... And as LL and I went through our first and only drink with Lers (double vanilla vodka and sprite), we began to notice that she was hammered. Then I got a phone call that I had to take outside. When I came in, Lers told me that she wasn't feeling well (she had been celebrating AC's new job/drinking for 6 hours) and since she rarely goes out, this was not a surprise. I told her as much, and she straight up started crying! Then she and AC left, and she cried on the way home! I felt so bad, and even after LL assured me that I was my normal self and not mean, and that Lers was just over-reacting because of her being hammered, I still had it on my mind.

Thursday's holiday was "No Beard Day," and since I hate facial hair, I had been getting on many of my friend's cases who have facial hair. One such individual was Fred, who we see on Thursday nights at VI Degrees.

When we went to such a place, and went up into the DJ Booth (which is more or less a vulture perch at this place!), I discovered that Fred had shaven his off. AND, he wore a shirt that said "Let's Hug it Out!" I love hugs! This definitely put the roller coaster on an uphill climb.



Next stop was Vitucci's, where we (and this now includes Danielle, and obviously Vitucci, who was working) did a shot of Pat Ron. Oh, that bastard Uncle Pat Ron! He hasn't been too nice to me of late!

After that, we went to Cush, where we had jager bombs, and a tall 44 North and Sprite (fave drink).

Next stop was Decibel. Apparently (as I don't remember really), we had 3 tickled pinks (all drinks = each, although not always with Danielle, as she was driving designatedly), and SEVERAL shots, mostly of Pat Ron. Fiff.

Then we went to Ma Fischer's, where I THOROUGHLY enjoyed some Cream of Chicken and Rice soup (Love it), which I actually remember a second of, and grilled cheese (as usual).

Next thing I know (as I said in my last blog), I woke up wearing just my skirt, underwear, and all my jewelery. Oh yeah. And seven or so bandaids. As you can see in the following pictures, which were taken Friday morning, my sheets were covered in blood.




That yellow body pillow is my boyfriend, or so I say. He cuddles with me nightly. =) I'm sad that I bled on him, though. It came out, though. Out of the sheets, too! Holla!

There's the pile o'bandaids. Hot, right?

There's my left knee. As you can see, it sustained a little bit of scrapage. Looks worse now, as the scrape scabbed, and there is a bruise around it. I know you're probably getting aroused just thinking about it! Freak. Just kidding. Haha!

The picture above, as well as the next three below are of my stigmata hands. These too look worse now, although they feel a lot better, because they are at least starting to scab. I took the pictures with the jeans later in the day, as I thought that the stigmata was more visible then!

It especially sucked at the Badger game, though, because I couldn't even high five! I had to high three, or high four! That shit hurt!

Ok, below is my sexy knee. I call the left one the pretty one, and the right one the sexy one. Teehee.

Yep! I sure did a number on them! Best part is, I was convinced that I did not need to wipe them down or put a band-aid on them. I told Danielle it was unnecessary, that they didn't hurt, and that I was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

She finally showed me that I had blood running all the way down to my shoe (which does have a stain from a literal pool of blood in it), and that I absolutely needed band-aids. I apparently told her that I did not need bandaids on my knees, just my hands. Evidentally, when my hands came into question, I actually requested bandaids. My reason was that I didn't want to get blood on my sheets. When Danielle was trying to wipe me down on my other injuries, which was right knee before the hands and left knee after, I told her that I didn't need bandaids, because a couple days before then, I napped with someone who had recently shaved his head, and left a few tiny (and I mean tiny) spots of blood on my sheets.

Apparently, I thought the knee wounds I had were comparable with the nicks (or knicks) my friend had sustained with the head shaving. Completely absurd.

So yeah. There you have it.

Alright, the reason I did this blog tonight was so that I could give the wound on my knee a bit of time to air out.... It would still bleed on my sheets (as it did in Chicago on Friday - oops!), so I can only air it out for now when it isn't going to be touching my pants or linens (that's for you, D!).

Hopefully I won't be having any more "seven bandaid nights" anytime soon!

Holla!

The Raccoon Whisperer

As you know, I am a texter. I send and receive over 10,000 textes (I'll explain the weird pluralization in a minute) each month.

It's funny. I have a problem with not responding to textes. If I get something and read something, I have to respond.

**** Note: I started this post yesterday. This morning, I woke up wearing my skirt and underwear, all my jewelry, and SEVEN BANDAIDS. So last night was a little heinous. From 1 to 10, mild to wild, we were def at an 11. Anyway, here's the story. And it won't be long, because two of the aforementioned bandaids were on the stigmata-like wounds on my palms, which means it hurts a bit to type. That also means that I am not splaining the pluralization right now either. Plus, once I am done, I am going to go pack then to Racine for Kewpees and to visit my grandma, then to Chicago to pick up John from the airport to see him off to Iraq, then off to the badger game tomorrow! Wahoo!

Anyway, people freak out when I don't respond within like five minutes, because I usually do. It's funny. My grandparents freak out and think I am dead, and my friends all think I am mad or depressed or something.

Well, one of the funniest textes I have ever received was from Ous. Actually a lot are. I might have written it in a blog before....

"Homework 2 hrs a day. Practice three hours a day. Eatin Chinese food and drinking a strawberry milkshake while watching a football game. Priceless. For car insuran there is caveman."

That was just out of nowhere. First text of the day from him that way.

His textes are often funny, mostly because of his strange abbreviations and such. Just bizarre.

But I think that I got the funniest series of textes the other night....

From a man, formerly known to me as Jason Kidd..... Yeah, the old dude from the wifebeater bar crawl.

So I woke up from a nap (only stayed up about fifteen minutes and ended up sleeping almost 11 straight hours. Holla!) and had a text from him saying that he got into a fight with a raccoon whilst taking out his garbage and it won. I asked him to elaborate, and got the following three texts. I'm taking the liberty of writing them in English instead of text shorthand, because such things drive me nuts...

Here goes!

"Lifted the lid and it was in there. After screaming, I dumped the bin. It fell out, we had a staredown. Threw rocks at it, still nothin. Gave it my pork chop bones, sat 2 feet from me and ate. Finished the bones and waited. I called it a fucker and went in and got it some bread. I now have a pet named Simba. He finally left the porch. If you would've heard my initial scream, you would've died laughing. I could've sworn I heard it say 'Try somethin, N___.'"

(Everyone knows I can't pull off the N-word.)

How hilarious is that? That thing is so going to come back.

Anyway, due to recent allegations of J Kidd (the real one, haha) groping some chick in a club, as well as other raccoon-related stories, this man now shall be known as the Raccoon Whisperer.

Ok, time to pull my life together and pack!

In Memoriam: Gene Frenkle 1950-2000

Two blogs two days in a row?! Wowsers.

I am kinda in a rush to catch up, because there are potentially blog-worthy things in the near future, such as a Badger game, Halloween, and my mom coming up to Milwaukee to go out.

Anyway, there were, first of all, a couple things in last night's blog that I left out.

One is that I have a shoot coming up on Sunday, and am curious as to if anyone has any amazing ideas for me. Send me some links or pictures or ideas, please!

Second is that I don't really know what to be for Halloween. Hook a sista up with one of those ideas, too!

Thirdly... In yesterday's blog, I put an asterisk by a couple comments.
Well, I absent-mindedly forgot to explain the asterisks. Asteri? How in hell does one pluralize such a word?

Anyway, what I said was that my hand was cold, or that my hand was freezing.

Lemme splain.

So we were out one night in Madison with this chick we know. She is a friend to some of us. I think she's tolerable, but probably wouldn't elect to spend too much time with her.

Anyway, we all got our first drinks at the same time, and were standing in the bar, holding them, and talking.

Well, all ol' girl could think of to say was to complain about how cold her hand was.
Excuse me?
We have all been holding the same drink for the same amount of time. Switch f'ing hands or something! No one cares how cold your hand is! Shut up, or you'll be complaining about how much your face hurts when I break it because you're being so lame!

Anyway, we later were discussing how absurd the whole situation was. In time, it became something to say when we just didn't really have anything else to say, and wanted to laugh (at someone else's expense).

THEN it became a way to complain or express discontent in general. An example being in yesterday's blog when I said that my lack of a successful cheeseburger search made my hand cold.

LL and I frequently ask eachother how our days are by asking about the temperature of eachother's hand.

Also, we've begun to refer to some people (and things) as gloves. Gloves are things that make our hands warm. People that make us happy. There are a few people that come to my mind that are always making my hand warm.

To the gloves in my life (and you know who you are, or at least I hope you do!): I love you, and thank you!

By the way, I think I would kill a man (and then bury him in the desert, haha) for an Orv's supreme pizza right now. Just sayin'!

So.... Today's blog should've been out months ago.

Sometime this summer, (I believe that it was the weekend before the Racine Wedding that was about the Hampton's of the Midwest), I was informed that Del was going to be getting married, and that my presence would be honored at the reception.

Del. Del went to highschool with my mom. He was a paratrooper, and now he's an enforcer for the Highriders.

The High Riders are a "motorcycle club." An enforcer basically beats the shit out of people, I think.

I used to babysit for Del and his first wife's child, Jake.

It was time for Jake and I to have a reunion. I'm pretty sure that he's 18 now.

I decided that Danielle would be the perfect date to such an event. Don't you agree? Of all people, who would feel the least comfortable in this environment?

D and I arrive at the reception, which, of course, is at a biker bar outside of Racine. As we roll up, we see HUNDREDS of Harleys in lines. Think of the scene from PeeWee's big adventure where he goes to the biker bar, and multiply that by about 20.

Now, I have some weird disorder. I'm sure it's in the DSM. I've seen that thing, and it is about as thick as ever.

Anyway, here's my issue. I think that every biker on the planet is somehow friends with or affiliated with my mom and stepdad. As it turns out, this is not the case.

As we walked up, some biker dude approached us and started talking. Basically hitting on us. I asked him if he could help me find Vanessa and Marv, assuming he knew them, and he said he didn't know them, but that he'd help us find them. No thanks, kind sir with the fingerless leather gloves and bandana. I'll be able to find them just fine.

So I was able to find a few people we knew, and then came upon Marv, who gave me a hug (hope this doesn't ruin his tough guy street cred - haha). Shortly thereafter, my mom showed up. Apparently, she was off taking jello shots. This was due to the fact that someone had made sure that there were hundreds (yes, that's right, hundreds) of these treats available at the reception.

Shortly after my greeting with my mother, she offered to buy me a drink. You see, tap beer was free, but mixed drinks you had to pay for.

I ordered a Captain and diet. As I watched the bartender pour my drink, I pretty much handed my keys over to Danielle. It was just about the strongest drink I had ever seen in my life. And, in true Racine county fashion, it cost my mom about fourteen cents. Gotta love that!

So soon after, I was reunited with little Jake. I decided that it would only be appropriate for us to do a shot together, and everyone else around was in. Tequila, of course!



On the far left, we have Jake, the kid I used to babysit. Yeah, he looks like someone I could keep in line, right? Next up, in the purple shirt and black leather vest, is Marv. Then you see a hand holding a shot, with a leather jacket on. Then me, then my mom.

That hand... That's Joey Marcott. He's one of those people who always goes by his first and last name, at least as long as my mom (which translated quickly to my mom, Danielle, and I) are concerned.

He took a serious liking to Danielle. He talked her up quite a bit, and even picked her up numerous times. Boy oh boy, Danielle hates being picked up!

But goodness gracious, don't they look cute together? Match made in heaven!

Danielle looks incredibly comfortable, doesn't she?

Anyway, after hanging out with Joey Marcott for awhile, we decided to adjourn outdoors for awhile. It was outside that we encountered a man who claimed to go by the name Napoleon. Once again, my little biker connaissance disorder was in full effect. I thought this absurd man, who claimed to be studying gynecology, was a friend of my mom's. I was just talkin' away, and letting him get away with some heinous ass comments, thinking that if he is my mom's friend, that gives him a little license to get so familiar with us. I also thought that, being my mom's friend, I should've been nice to him.

Turns out, once again, no. This man was not one of my mom's friends. He was just a man who stepped across the line, habitually. He was a habitual line-stepper.

He also claimed to be some kind of photographer. He had a very cheesey camera, and thought he was some kind of professional. Bru-tal.

So we freed ourselves of Napoleon and went back inside.

One thing that was amazing about this particular reception was the live music. It was performed by one of my mom and Marv's favorite groups (and coincidentally, the winner of the Best of Racine award given by the Journal Times), Mean Jake. They are a blues band. In hanging out and doing Jello Shots earlier, I happened to notice that the lead singer (whose name is not Jake, but rather Doug or something like that) was playing the cowbell from time to time. It was at this point that I expressed interest to my mom in playing the cowbell. I am sure that most of you know that my inspiration came from the Saturday Night Live video. I'll try to embed the video into the blog, but in the even that that doesn't work, try THIS LINK!

Will'>http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=7811298">Will Ferrel-SNL Blue Oyster Cult and more cowbell
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Anyway, of course my mom has the hookup on making this dream come true. So she tells Doug, or Roger, or whatever about my desire to play cowbell. And of course, for whatever reason, he is ready for me to join the band.

Here's a picture of the lead singer of Mean Jake and I, discussing our future collaboration!

And here it's going down....

Look at how amazing we look? Clearly, I am a natural. And let me tell you, I was a hit!

Now it may look like Marv is just some tough guy that walks around scaring people or something, but in a strange turn of events, Marv is a dancing machine.

He has a dance move that he has invented himself called "the Merv."

This involves putting your arms to your sides with them bent at right angles and moving them up and down with your forearms parallel to your body.

It's hard to resist doing the Merv, especailly when Merv itself is doing the dance of his namesake.

Here's a family Merv performance for your viewing pleasure....
Don't we look like we're having fun? It's because we are. ;-)

You can only do the Merv for so long before you get a little parched.

While Bruce Dickinson (the cock of the walk!) has a fever, and the only cure is more cowbell,

we had a thirst, and the only cure was more jello shots.

As you can see, my BFF from Mean Jake had to join us. And the guy with the froggy shirt? He is Greg Mastos. And he was more dedicated to the Jello Shot cause than can be described in mere words. And this man showed his dedication by bringing ONE OF the coolers full of Jello Shots over to the table at which we were seated, so that we might be able to indulge in said shots without having to move very far. Saweet!
I apparently decided at this point that it was time to take a picture of one of the cutest couples ever, my mom and marv. These two are awesome together. Best friends. Hard to believe that such "rough and tumble" individuals can be so cute, but it's true. Damn. I'm ruining Marv's tough guy image and street cred again, aren't I?

What I meant to say is that he is NOT a teddy bear. He is more like a ravenous scary bear. Yeah. I am scared of Marv. Yep. Sca-ry.
Anyway, if you thought that my disorder of thinking that my mom and Marv are friends to all bikers was not healed yet. We'll see if that biz-nass ever goes away.

So at some point during the night, we met Shawn, another man that I thought was friends with my mom, but actually did not know her. Yet. Don't worry, I'll introduce ya.

When you picture a biker, just randomly, off the top of your head, Shawn is exactly who pops in your mind, I'll bet.

I've met more bikers than an average person has met, I'd bet (ha, that rhymes!), and when I picture a generic biker, Shawn is what comes to mind.

I mean "generic" in the nicest way possible.

I believe that what I told Shawn was "quintessential." And when I say that, I mean it.

Of course, for the blog, I had to take a picture with the quintessential biker. Here we are! Pretty much looks like a picture of me and most of the guys I am attracted to, except for he's pretty much the opposite. Haha.

Another part of the reason that I posed with Shawn on his bike was to make Danielle feel more comfortable doing the same. I figured she could send this picture home and tell her parents she had a new boyfriend or something.

What's funny about that is that my mom would be pumped to see me with such a man, whilst Danielle's parents would probably have several heart attacks between the two of them. Holla!

Here's the cute couple! Man, Danielle was just some sort of Biker Playette that night!

Also notable about Shawn is that he had one of the coolest necklaces I had ever seen. It had a bunch of skulls on it. I tried to get him to give me such a necklace, but he wouldn't he said that he'd give a different one, that was a little too small, to my Mom and Marv the next day, as he was planning on coming to look at Baby, which is Marv's old bike (I am pretty sure it's a 1977 Shovelhead, whatever that means), which Marv is looking to perhaps sell. I still lack a necklace. Now Shawn, if you're out there, I am still waiting for my necklace, damn it!

One thing about my mom and Marv is that they are not really night owls. I am pretty sure that we were hitting the 9 or 10 o'clock hour, which pretty much meant it was time to turn into a pumpkin. AND! I was already hammered.

On the drive back to the Mil, whilst Danielle was propped up on blankets so she could see over the steering wheel (LL, you are probably familiar with this move, as you have to do it daily), my cousin called. She was out in Milwaukee for Summer Soulstice with her husband and college roommate.
So we decided to meet up with them at Mo's Irish Pub on Wisconsin Ave. after an attempt at hitting up the North Ave bars (before we were even serious regulars!).
Christine's husband, Adam, was a delight, as usual.

One special thing about both Mo's Irish pub locations, as I learned only this past Friday, is that they are complete with a library. You know, just in case you feel the need to do some leisurely reading. I can't count the number of times I've been out and really just sat there wishing I had a wide selection of books to read. Adam must've felt this way, too, and he was in luck!

Then we ladies decided to take a group shot. Aren't we lovely? Look at our earth tones. So coordinated. I can't wait to hang out with Christine again! It has been far too long. Remember when I lost my purse? Left it in Jo-Cat's? I blogged that. That was the last time. Damn!

Christine, by the way, is the one in the picture that is right next to me, who is not Danielle. Gorgeous! Danielle, too, but you are used to her. And Christine's roommate is also very pretty.... Oh man. Haha.

Then, of course, we had to get a group pic of all five of us. I have no idea why Adam felt the need to be the shortest person in the picture, but I am ok with it, as it adds interest to the picture - haha. Lovely!

As for the rest of the night, I wish I could say more. I am pretty sure that I drunk dialed and texted a lot of people. I seem to remember Broseph being one of them. Wouldn't be shocked if Ous was on that list, too. Poor Ous!

Another great night. And two blogs in two days. Maybe it'll be a streak! How many days does one have to blog in a row to make a streak?

Ok, time to finish this glass of Cabernet Sauvignon (my favorite kind of wine) and hit the hey.

Hope you enjoyed!

How many licks?

So I'm procrastinating on correcting papers. I am going to write this blog, then work out (I'm guessing at midnight?) then shower THEN grade some papers. Who thinks I am actually going to grade A paper, much less several, this evening? Hmmm....

Anyway, I want to start out this story with a little anecdote about my grandmother. In the last blog, I mentioned about my mom saying that she said the f-word.

Well, I had been expecting that she was going to tell me that grandma had said it quoting someone else, or involved in some ridiculous story about someone else or something.

Not so.

Apparently, it was just some lame, offensive and non-pc joke!

Evidently, my dear sweet grandma-ma was telling some joke about how "Indians" name their babies by looking at what is going on around them. What I am told, was that she said that names are chosen that way, and that exampls were "Hawk-fly-low" or "Two-Deer-Fucking."

Whaaaaaaaat?!

Anyway, so that was pretty much the shock of my life. Apparently my mom has only heard my grandma use the "f-word" twice in her 47 years of life. I've only heard my mom say the f-word twice, too. Ok, that's not true at all.

Moving on.

So last night I decided to stay in. I've had a rough week and have been in a terrible mood a lot of it, especially the last 36 or so hours. So, I decided the best option would be for me to go to bed early. So I did.

At about 445am, the freaking fire alarm went off. So annoying! Best part, however, is that as I am exiting my apartment into the hallway, this guy walking out of the apartment next to me says, "What is this a fire drill? I feel like I am back in prison!"

Awesome. I'm happy to living next to you, Ex-con.

Moving on again.... (Haha, this blog has no attention span.)

So I decided to cheer myself up, I'd make the drive down to Ray-town and get myself a Kewpee cheeseburger (or two). Well, Kewpee's was closed. This really made my hand cold*. So I thought I'd go to my second choice, which was Rosie's. Nope. Closed. Third choice is The Farm. Also closed. So then I thought I'd try Caesar's. Guess what? That is now a Mexican Restaurant. Sweet. I ended up driving 45 minutes to eat Culver's. How lame is that? My hand was freezing*.

So I ate my Culver's and went to see my Mom and Marv. Whilst there on the porch, we started talking about my roommates, past and present, and how I grateful I am to have D, who is an amazing roommate. This is especially relevant when we consider the girl I lived with as well the first year that I lived with Danielle, who was named Abbey.

She was insane. Literally.

One time the three of us went down to U of I for a weekend to go to the Badger game, and to make a long story short, she decided we had to either leave at three o'clock in the morning or find our own rides back up to Madison. Basically, she didn't like the way Danielle's friends were treating her (read: they weren't giving her enough attention or kissing her ass). This is absurd, because Danielle is one of the nicest girls in the United States and doesn't really associate with douchebags, for the most part (haha).

Haha, anyway, the conversation shifted a bit to Abbey's exboyfriend, Ryan, who we called Tootsie Pop.

This is because ol' boy was about 5'11" and 45 pounds. I am pretty sure that about 25 of these pounds were allocated to this unfortunate-looking man's head.

He was stick thin, and had the biggest melon on record. More or less, he looked like a tootsie pop.

When we start talking about him, my mom says, "Did I tell him that he looked like a tootsie pop?"

I do not even know why she asked such an absurd question.... Of course she did. My mom is even more brutally honest than I am!

But more about Tootsie Pop....

This man was such a joke!

He was the manager of Men's Wearhouse. He actually transferred from the one in Minneapolis to come live nearer to Abbey, who regularly dated several gentlemen simultaneously.

She was so brutal about him, too, because she hated that he was such a pushover. I guess it's easy to push someone over when they weigh 45 pounds and over half of these pounds are cranium.

She didn't like that she could push him around. She lost respect for him as a result, and thus was even more brutal to him than she would've been to a regular person (perhaps someone with an average-sized head?).

Anyway, I have no problem of purveyors of fine menswear, but this dude just reminded me of Ben Affleck's character in Mall Rats. The Casual Male guy. He took himself approximately that seriously. Bru-tality.

The best part, however, was that he participated in COMPETITIVE KARAOKE.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. That is correct. COMPETITIVE KARAOKE.

He sings country songs in karaoke competitions. Hilarious.

So then back to the pushover thing....

Back in college, I wasn't good at sleeping either.

One night, I was up late as usual, when I started hearing weird noises from the living room.

Noises like "Ouch! Ouch! Stop hitting me!"

And weird phone beeps.

And slams.

As it turns out, for some reason, Abbey was beating the shit out of Tootsie Pop with the cordless phone, and she had to take him to the hospital after to see if his nose was broken.

The whole Quad-plex could hear this taking place. Absurd.

So my mom, Marv, and I were reminiscing about these shenanigans, and Marv says

"Perhaps she was trying to get to the creamy center!"

and then my mom says,

"How many licks with a phone does it take to get to the center of the Tootsie Pop?"

Oh hilarious.

So that was my afternoon.

Oh, and by the way, Mom, I looked at the geoducks. Those are some hideous and phallic-looking creatures! And I'll be damned if they don't live for a century and a half!!!

Alright, I should probably get to working out and such....

By the way, Chevy Chase turned 64 and Paul Hogan (Crocodile Dundee!) turns 68 today, October 8th.

For the record, Dirty Work is one of Chevy Chase's best movies. And the sequel to Crocodile Dundee can whoop the first one's ass.

And, here's a weird ass video. I love it. I watch it all the time!

Try to wrap your mind around that one!

Happy birthday, Mom! (Luggage return and wifebeater bar crawl)

Happy birthday, Mom! For your birthday, I promised you a blog, and a night out on the town (which I am sure will also be blog-worthy), so here goes!

So a little bit ago, I got my luggage back. I couldn't have been more excited. I came home and there was a post-it from UPS saying my package was in the office.

So, I went down there, and the propert manager was in the office talking to a couple prospective tennants. She gave me my luggage, which was packaged in a giant "Staples" box, and mentioned something about how she knew I had been looking forward to receiving it.

She then asked me if it was school supplies that were in the giant box.

I sheepishly told her that it was not school supplies.

She then asked me what it was, and I gave her the cliff's notes version of my story.... That I had too much to drink while in Vegas and left my luggage in a cab.The prospective tennants just started cracking up.The property manager, who is about 55 years old, exclaimed, "Amanda! I would never expect that from you!"All I could think was.... Do you not watch the security videos of me coming home at 4:00 almost every morning in my "going out" clothes?I just said, "Well, you gotta cut loose sometime, I guess!"To which she replied, "But you're a school teacher!"This is when the prospective tennants almost fell out of their chairs. I just kinda stood there, with my luggage in my arms.She then said, "At least it happened somewhere where your students weren't around to see it!"INDEED!I just said something like, "I didn't know that 'what happens in vegas stays in vegas' applied to my luggage, but I guess I was wrong!" She said something about how now I have something else to think about when I see those commercials. Indeed I do!
So later that day, I called my mom to tell her that my luggage had made its way back home to me. During this conversation, she informed me that the girl who lives across the street is in jail again.Apparently, she got her 4th DUI. She is 24 years old.I was in shock, although I shouldn't have been, as this is Racine we are talking about. We joked about Confucious saying something like "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me four times and I am too stupid to be allowed to live."I asked my mom, "What, is the 'learning' part of her brain not functioning anymore?"To which she responded, "That part's still drunk! It's still in Vegas! It went on a weekend bender and hasn't returned yet!"Oh, Mom. I am glad to see that I will not soon be living this one down!It's actually ok, though, as I am kinda proud of myself. And, to be honest, the experience has been worth way more than the $25 it cost me to ship my luggage back home in conversation value alone! Yeah, it sucked to be wearing my reject makeup and not have access to my flat iron and curling irons, but hey.... No harm, no foul. I am just pumped that I was able to function highly enough to get on my plane. Plus, I've learned my lesson: always travel with someone who is going to be sober enough to make sure you keep your shit together. Haha.

So soon after was the wifebeater bar crawl, and I was brave enough to wear my infamous "I heart Patron" beater. Turns out, I did a lot of shots (mostly because of repeatedly winning some dice game that I still don't understand at all), none of which were Pat Ron. Old Uncle Pat Ron must've been hung over. Anyway, here are a few pictures from the day!

The morning of, I was incredibly tired. I didn't sleep at home, which meant that I was quite the tired girl! Plus, I was a little hung over.... Who goes out and gets hammered the night before she knows she has a bar crawl at 1130 am? I do!

The first stop was McGillycuddy's. Here's a shot of LL and I there.... We've both taken better pictures, haha....

And here is a shot of LL and one of our friends, Khary....

We were still pretty much struggling at McGillycuddy's. We didn't even have a single drink.

So the next stop was Fat Daddy's, where we were supposed to play beanbags and/or volleyball. I was still not moving fast enough to be so active, but we did do jello shots (which you can see Khary below trying to snort), and have some drinks. We also took a cute picture with Troy and Khary on my and LL's laps.

So then he upgraded the straw, so as to possibly get more jello shot in his nose....

And the cute lap picture.....

Then LL and I decided to ask Henry to take a picture of us. Once we handed him the camera, he immediately took a picture of himself. For your viewing pleasure....

Here's the first picture of us, sportin' our stunna shades, because the sun was too much for our strugglin' ass eyes....

Hen, our lovely art director for this photo shoot, decided that we would show more emotion if we took off our sunglasses. He was right, and here's the evidence!

The next stop was MJ's which was just a tiny place. I had just started to feel a little bit of the effects of alcohol, as right before we left Fat Daddy's, Troy and I pounded our drinks, as usual, after he said, "Bottoms!" That has now become the way that we finish all our drinks, by the way.... That was mostly from one night in which Troy, LL, and I drank about 25-30 martinis in about two or three hours, and pounded them because of Troy saying, "Bottoms" all the time.

It was here that we met Marcus, who we now call "Alleged Marcus."

The reason we call him such a name is because when we met, he tried to give us some line about how he works at the middle bar at Decibel. Excuse me? There is no way that that is true. We go there all the time. We would've seen you. Let's be serious about life. Anyway, here are pictures of Alleged Marcus taking some gross shots and hangin' with Hen....

Since the bar crawl, we've seen Marcus a few times at Decibel, at the same side of the bar as us, though. He is adamant about his employment there. He always asks the people around him to verify that he works there. We tell him that we're sorry, but we do not believe the credibility of whoever he's asked, even if it is an owner.

He has also gone so far as to show us a business card. I then replied that we do not believe that Marcus is even his name. I told him that I have a business card from Decibel, too, and that my name is Dustin. He says I am a little light-skinned and blonde for Dustin. Agree to disagree, Alleged Marcus, agree to disagree.

Another humorous conversation was when Marcus asked us why he doesn't get kicked out at bar time. He couldn't even make it through that sentence without laughing, as he knew that we rarely get kicked out at bartime!

Anyway.... We played "flippy cup" or "boat races" for a bit at MJ's. Tristan had set up games at each bar.... LL and I, who both hate beer, played with mixed drinks. That was obviously a genius call. Hen also alternated between the two for the different rounds. He is not good at slamming beverages, and thus dumped the majority of his drink down the front of his face. Hilarious.

LL and I then changed games, and turned (of course) to Photo Hunt. Holla! It was during this time that we began chatting with a fellow bar crawler (or is it bar crawlee), who I maintain looks like Jason Kidd. You can verify such things below.

Next stop was VI Degrees. This was brutal for several reasons. The first is that every time we go to VI Degrees, which is every Thursday night for a brief stop, we drink a Randy Watson. Randy is actually seriously high on the list of why we go there.... It's that, and to support our friend Fred, who spins there that night and sometimes plays my song for me.

Randy Watson, as you hopefully know, is a character from one of my all-time favorite movies, Coming to America. He's the guy who performs at the Black Awareness Rally. You may know him as "Joe the Policeman" from the "What's Going Down?" episode of "That's My Momma." That boy good! I believe the children are our future.....

Anyway, our new friend Randy is actually a chocolate martini. This is the most brilliant name for a drink I have ever heard of, as Randy Watson from Coming to America was the frontman for the band "Sexual Chocolate."

Obviously, what anyone who is on hours seven and eight of a bar crawl needs is a couple damn martinis. Especially someone who is as talented as I am at the art of sipping. Lawd.

Put that hand-in-hand with the aforementioned dice game, and you have the recipe for disaster.

I still don't understand this damn game. I think I helped someone (a master of photo hunt who works at Vitucci's.... Best photo hunt player I've ever seen. RIDICULOUS!) win this game last night. I blew on his dice. Got lots of high fives.

Anyway, the day of the bar crawl, I didn't get as many high fives so much as shots. I should've stuck to high fives, because VI degrees is where my ass fell apart. Here are some pictures from there.... The first is of Tristan and I. Boy, do I look sober!

Yep yep, that is definitely my sober face! I am all biz!

Next up is LL with "Eric" aka Jason Kidd. I also threw in a picture of the real Jason Kidd (will the real J Kidd please stand up?) for a point of comparison, so you can see just how much these two men look alike. I mean, really.

I mean, not the best picture of "Eric" I don't think, but you can definitely see a resemblance, right?

Anyway, VI Degrees was a bit of a struggle for LL as well, as she ended up leaving her phone there. When we got to the final bar, a special trip had to be made all the way back to VI Degrees to retrieve her phone. Perhaps, however, she shouldn't have been allowed to use her phone at this point, because she was sending some pretty absurdly ridiculous and heinous texts.

What is also amusing about her leaving her phone at VI Degrees is that merely one week before, she left her phone on the stoop at Bayou after my birthday party. Pull your life together, LL!

"Mandie, I got your girl's phone here at Bayou."

"Mandie, your girl's phone is at Bayou."

Haha.

In stereo with a cute little delay.

Anyway, LL was not the only one who caused a special trip. When we were leaving VI Degrees, I had decided that I needed a cheeseburger or two, and that I needed it immediately. The appetizer specials that were to be at the final bar were simply not going to cut it.

So yes, the entire school bus went to McDonald's. But at this point, I had hit a wall. I was going to sleep, and that was all there was to it. So I did. On the bus. I sent friends into McDonald's for what I affectionately refer to as the McDelicious. This is a McLers (two cheeseburger meal) + a crispy ranch snack wrap.

Problem was, I was too tired to eat when my food came to me on the bus, so I was pretty much laying there with a cheeseburger in my hand, and another one plus the snackwrap laying on my body. It was a classy sight to behold, and was only made classier by my attire, I tell you!

When we got to the fifth and final bar, the Lodge, I wasn't havin' it. So, I took a nap in Tristan's car. LL and J Kidd kept me company. Then LL's sweet roommate came and picked LL and I up. At some point, Tristan's car alarm was going off while I was in it, and I was not very quick to realize that I was the one with the power to make it stop, since his keys were in my hand. Brut brut!

Then Joee (LL's roommate) picked us up, and took us to her old roommate's house. I don't recall why. At this time, J Kidd texted me to see why I had left him. I told him that he had left me. When he tried to argue, my response was "Erroneous! Erroneous!"

Obviously.

Ended up going back to LL's and cuddling with her for awhile. That was quite nice, especially since she didn't have her damn heated mattress pad on.... That thing is absurd. I slept over there once when Ray Ray was in town, and the thing was on high. In my infinite (drunken) wisdom, I didn't think to ask LL to turn it off. She seemed pleased by it. Instead, I tried to roll over as much as I possibly could. When one side of my body was fully cooked, I rolled over. I also tried laying on the edges of the bed so as to not be on the hot spots. I was, however, wiggling around like "a little strip of bacon."

Now LL calls me her little strip of bacon. Isn't that cute? Love it.

Finally made it home, and was in bed before midnight.

That was a long ass day!

Anyway, happy birthday, Mom! Finally 47! I hope you enjoyed the blog.

I read your email. Can't believe grandma said the F word! I freaked out when she said "ass" a couple times in my life. What I also can't believe was that you called me to tell me that she said the F word, and implied that if/when I checked my email about such things, I would understand more.... But then I get the email, and all it says is what you told me on the phone! No story or anything! You are going to have to elaborate. I mean, is it like when Danielle said it, quoting her uncle, and it apparently doesn't count? Or did she say it legitimately? I just gotta know! I'll be watching my email like a hawk.... Or perhaps like a vulture watches its prey! Haha....

Love you!

Thanks everyone for reading. Hope you enjoyed! There should be a new one soon! (I know, I know... I say such things all the damn time.)