- JÄGER BALL. First of all, are you coming? You are! Awesome. And you're bringing 10 of your closest friends?? Even better! And you've lowered your expectations of what I'm like in real life so there's not an ungodly amount of pressure on me to be as unrealistically attractive and entertaining as I think you think I am?? PERFECT. I like my expectations like I like my cholesterol: low. So, I'm glad that's settled. Secondly, a few people commented on last Friday's post asking if I could recommend a cheap DC hotel or perhaps figure out some kind of group rate for all you out-of-towners. I'm not going to lie, when I first read that I thought, "PSH, fuck if I know how to make that happen," and went immediately back to googling camo pug harnesses. However, it occurred to me a few days later that my sister works for a hotel doing special events. And you guys need a hotel. For this special event. So I sat down with my calculator and worked out that if A + B = C, then maybe I should stop being retarded and ask my sister if she can hook you guys up. So leave a comment or shoot me an email (firstname.lastname@example.org) if you're interested and Becca will see what she can do!
Ahh, Becca McBlogger: coming in handy since 1980.
- I had the most irritating conversation with Boss #2 on Wednesday. I took a break from forced slave labor to check my email and audibly guffawed at something Rachel sent me. Boss #2 strolled over and asked what was up. "Oh, one of my good friends is pregnant and sent me an email saying that she already feels bad for me for when I get pregnant because of my boobs," I explained. "Truthfully I just don't think I have a body made for pregnancy. I've got the narrow hips of a 12-year-old boy and huge circus boobs. This body was not meant to carry a child." "Oh don't worry," Boss #2 said, "When you're pregnant you can actually feel your hips separating to accommodate the baby. Every woman is built for pregnancy, Meghan. Don't worry. God wouldn't do that to you," and then walked away. And I just sort of stood there with my head cocked sideways, awkwardly shifting my eyes around the room for a solid 30 seconds. Because it's always awkward when someone drops a hard G into casual conversation. It just makes things get real holy, real fast. And much like religion has no place in schools, it also has no place is conversations regarding my separating hips, vagina and massive circus boobs.
- I would like it to be known that the crisp, white shirt I put on this morning is now completely drenched in coffee thanks to an email I just received from College Roommate Danielle. I took a big sip of coffee right before I read it and was NOT prepared for the contents. This resulted in a cheesy sitcom style spit-take, the likes of which haven't been seen since Saved by the Bell. Please allow the following excerpt to enrich your afternoon:
"I am in the middle of a seminar looking like I am taking notes, but really I want to die a little inside.
I bought a new bra yesterday, it's awesome and comfortable. I mean, it was, until I realized say about 20 minutes ago what the clips on the top were for. I am currently wearing a breastfeeding bra. How did you find out, you ask? the clip popped open, out popped my boob and i had to figure out how to reach my hand into my shirt, shove my breast back into the bra and clip it in the middle of a very cold classroom."
And that is why we are friends.
- Boss #1 has a UTI from having "dirty sex" on Halloween. You're welcome.
- If Co-Blogger Chris and I were to ever make a two-man comedy troop, we'd call it "Poppers and Ketamine." He'd obviously be Poppers.
- I need to get laundry detergent and face wash after work.
- This blog post is quickly morphing into a list of not-funny things I just happen to be thinking about at the moment, so I'm going to stop and give you your drinking game. This week's drinking game is inspired by how incredibly excited I am that Co-Blogger Chris is coming to stay with me this weekend! I'm going to hold him gently in my arms, rock back and forth, slowly stroke his soft ginger hair and explain to him that not knowing what you want to be when you grow up isn't that bad. Then when he asks, "how so?" I'm going to awkwardly look around the room for a few minutes mumbling irrelevant adages like "a penny saved is a penny earned" and "home is where the heart is" before and cramming a bottle of Jäger in his face to make it all better. Reunited and it feels so good. And speaking of being reunited! Straighten your back brace, pop in a mix tape and grab your giant binder—it's time for The Romy and Michele's High School Reunion Drinking Game!
- "Me too!"
- They discuss a diet
- Somebody puts magnets on Michele's back brace
- Someone in the service department hits on Romy
- Anyone says "Tuscon"
- Anyone says "High School"
- There's a flashback
- Heather smokes a cigarette
- Heather says "there's a difference!"
- Heather tells Toby Walters to go fuck herself
- The Cowboy makes an appearance
- Michele goes on a job interview
- They exercise
- Anyone says "post-it"
- Anyone says "A-Group"
- Sandy Frink gets an erection
- Billy Christiansen runs without his shirt (meow)
- Anyone gets hit by a limo
- During the follow exchange, solely because it's my favorite:
Romy: Oh my God! Remember what a big controversy it was for us to have our picture taken together?- And obviously finish what you're drinking during the following. Because it's so good:
Michele: Yeah, because Danny Weller like, lodged that complaint. Because alphabetically he was supposed to be between us.
Romy: So we said: "OK Danny. If you want to be between us, come to Michele's house on Friday night and we'll be waiting."
Michele: And then he showed up, and we were like: "Danny, it was a joke!"
Romy: And then we turned the sprinklers on him!
[both laugh hysterically]
Michele: Oh my God!
[abruptly stops laughing]
Michele: Didn't he die?
Romy: I think so.
Romy: What the hell is your problem, Christie. Why the hell are you always such a nasty bitch? I mean, okay, so Michele and I did make up some stupid lie! We only did it because we wanted you to treat us like human beings. But you know what I realized? I don't care if you like us, 'cause we don't like you. You're a bad person with an ugly heart, and we don't give a flying fuck what you think!
As always, thank you so much for reading and supporting us. Have a great weekend and we'll see you back here Monday morning! Kisses!