Sorry about the delay in this ode, my boss wouldn't shut up about her daughter's prom,
It was hard to act like I gave a shit, when all I want to do is get my birthday rhyme on.
Oh Anna my dear, I can't believe another year has flown!
And my love for you has exponentially grown.
I want to take this time to get sappy and express my feelings, if I may
Although when my mom reads this, she'll probably think that we're gay.
Picking my favorite moment in our friendship would be impossible and super hard to fix,
So I managed to narrow it down; here are my top six:
#6 was in July of 2007 when we were two bored little hosts,
22 years-old, playing in a creek and a-hunting for ghosts.
We caught a few, and Jesus Christ they were scary,
Which brings me to my #5 moment: Jill's infamous question: "Is that my Gary?"
#4 isn't the nicest of our jokes, and saying it publicly would make me a mean little gnome,
I think you'll understand if I just leave it at, "I am completely willing for you to go home."
#3: Jill's 21st birthday was the best weekend of my life, and that's not a pile of lies,
Endless Jäger bombs, partying mini-mall style and stealing a stranger's basket of fries.
My favorite part of the weekend was when you shouted at a party, "Does anyone have any coke?!"
From the sea of judgmental eyes staring back, it was clear only me and you got the joke.
My #2 moment came at Gary and Brooke's engagement soiree,
With a "pardon," we stole a bottle of vodka and snuck off and away.
A mean woman in pink decided to stop us, just for her own sick pleasure,
We hid in the bathroom and washed our hands for good measure.
Andy got mad at us; that night he seemed to be in a bit of a funk,
But thank god he introduced us to the phrase, "I am awesome when I'm drunk."
My #1 favorite memory went down on the train from Italy to France,
A googly-eyed Moroccan coke dealer wanted to take us on an unwanted tour of his pants.
I clung to you for dear life, and you clung back with all of your powers,
We were prepared to keep each other safe, for a long sleepless eight-hours.
Just when I thought I couldn't stay awake any longer for the duration of our route,
A French train conductor came in and promptly kicked the Moroccan coke dealer out.
Thank god that kind Frenchman came in and saved us two poor American foxes,
Because low and behold, I opened the coke dealer's luggage and inside was JUST MORE BOXES!
Now it's pretty funny, but at the time the situation gave me a real chill,
To top it all off, Jill kicked out a French hottie, as she was tripping balls on NyQuil.
We've had us some times and I love you quite dearly,
You mean the world to me, and I don't mean that queerly.
I guess it's time to end this ode, but tonight a fun Cinco de Mayo will be had!
Oh yea, and jodí tu papa—that's Spanish for I fucked your dad.
Happy birthday Anna! And now back to you regularly scheduled recrap of The Hills!
It would appear that the praying mantis MTV hired to write this season of The Hills has better things to do than stay in his tree and hone his craft. Rather, he's decided to drag out this whole Stacie the Bartender/Spencer/Heidi love triangle mishigoss that got old like six episodes ago. Things I find more interesting than this storyline: measuring for blinds; organizing fridge magnets; watching a street be repaved; researching the benefits of switching to soy milk; converting degrees from Fahrenheit to Celsius to kelvins; teaching myself the dance from the "Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)" video; icing a pulled a hamstring; having a good cry; burning some old pictures and passing out in bed with a full bowl of Kashi Go-Lean Crunch cereal on my stomach. (At some point that list changed from asinine tasks to things I did tonight, but I digress.) Come on Scott; I get that you're just an insect trying to write a scripted reality show and we're already asking a lot of you, but something tells me that you can do better than this. Have some pride in your work.
Our episode began with Heidi taking a lovely stroll down the pier with a sailor she picked up at the local Bennigan's. I was going to judge her for this, but then I remembered that she's managed to alienate pretty much everyone she's ever known ever and it must be hard for her to find people to confide in at this point. Plus Bennigan's does an unbeatable nacho plate. You take your friends and nachos where you can get 'em. Anyway, Heidi confides in the sailor that she saw a text on Spencer's phone that morning from—gasp!—Staci the Bartender wondering if he was going to H. Wood that night. "Oh Heidi. You're a fine girl. What a good wife you would be," the sailor said, "But my life, my lover, my lady, is the sea. And that plate of Bennigan's hot wings I just housed down me gullet. Yar." "Well, I appreciate your honesty," Heidi said to the sailor, fighting back tears as she looked out longingly at the ocean. "Heidi if I were your boyfriend/fiance/husband but only if we're in Mexico, I'd treat you like the Mermaid Princess I know yee are. Yee should totes go to H. Wood tonight and see if that salty olde sea hag has the cannon balls to show up!" "You know what Sailor? You're right! I'll get my older, less attractive sister to come and tell Stephanie there's a big, fat hit of meth waiting there with her name on it!" "Arrr! Sounds like a plan. And shall Black Beard be joining yee?" "Black Beard? The pirate?" "No, Lauren Conrad!" PIRATE ZING!
Later that night at H. Wood, Staci the Bartender totally showed up—while Heidi and crew were there! I know, I fell off my couch and choked on a bugle I was so shocked! A delightfully West Side Story scene ensued between The Blonds (Stephanie, Heidi and Holly) and The Brunettes (Staci the Bartender and her two token brunette friends.) At first they stayed to their mutual sides of the club, sharpening their switch blades and making racial slurs, but then—Stephanie's syringe slipped out of her arm and rolled into Brunette turf. Stephanie ran after it and found herself suddenly surrounded by good for nothin' Brunettes. "Get outta here Pratt, we don't much care for your kind here," Staci the Bartender said, throwing her toothpick to the ground. "And what kind would that be Staci? Def Leppard loving, tequila pouring, boyfriend stealing, 'Nettes?" Heidi said, quick to defend a fellow Blond. "You watch your tongue Blondie or the next thing you'll be gettin' plowed by is my blade, not your cheatin', shady boyfriend/fiance/husband but only if we're in Mexico, Spencer!" "Blonds!" "Brunettes!" "BLONDS!" "BRUNETTES!" And then a violent, yet graceful dance/fight sequence broke out until Office Krupke came and broke it up. I'm not sure if Holly made it out alive. The last I saw of her she had just arobesqued into Staci the Bartender's shiv. No one seemed too concerned though.
Across town there was yet another fight going on, this one between Audrina and Brody's Playmate girlfriend, Jayde. Oh Jayde. Her names about as real as her tits. And her tits are about as real as her lips. And her lips are about as real as her nose. And her nose is about as real as her chin. And her chin is about as real as her hair. And...oye...this joke could take days. The moral of the story is she looks like a less rode hard and put away wet Janice Dickinson. Slightly. Ever so slightly. Poor Jayde just couldn't seem to go anywhere this episode without running into Audrina. Which is unfortunate because, you know, Audrina had sex with her boyfriend and such. Fully aware that he was still in a relationship with her. Because she's always had a "little crush" on him. Jayde decided to get Audrina back by doing some hardcore staring and whispering before finally asking Brody to make her leave the club. As a defeated Audrina skulked off, Jayde decided to really stick it to Auddy by sloppily making out with the Brodster—RIGHT IN FRONT OF AUDRINA! ...Come on Jayde, that's all you got? Personally, I would have ripped out Audrina's heart via her asshole and hit the dance floor with some Thriller moves until it stopped beating. But then again I'm so east coast about these things! L0LZ!