Just pull the trigger, Meg.

YEP. The release party for our first book, The Misanthrope's Guide to Life, is officially on the calendar! And it's equal parts terrifying, exciting, stressful, and erotic. Well, mostly terrifying and erotic. I've been BM-ing like a champ, though, so when God closes a door...

To reiterate what our jaunty little flier says, we're having a release party/book signing/book reading/poetry slam/key party/just kidding/but maybe not?/I don't know/the night is young and I can't get HPV/so there's that on Thursday, September 22nd at my beloved Big Hunt in Dupont Circle. The hilarious Tim Miller will emcee and Chris and I will be signing books, shaking hands, kissing babies, and stress vomiting into our purses from 7:30-11:30pm. (The good stuff starts at 8:15, so be on time.) (Please.) The bar will have $3 Bad Ass Amber, Big Ass Wheat, Light Ass, and Hipster Ass (aka PBR). (I 100% stole that PBR joke from Big Hunt general manager Dave Coleman.) (Dave also wrote 60% of the book and designed the cover art.) The first ten people to show up will also get a FREE gift compliments of Adams Media. I mean, what more could you want? To meet my parents? Oh, they'll be there. A copy of the book? Hop on Amazon and buy yours today!

I just really think you should come. I don't know if this helps, but pretty much every single person I know hooked up at our last party. It's an exciting precedent. Well, I didn't hook up. I got dumped, drank too much, and passed out fully clothed next to Co-Blogger Chris and his tighty whitties on a particularly uncomfortable corner of my bed. True fucking story. So I say this year, everyone I know gets laid, I step on a nail, have to get a Tetanus shot, and end my night giving Tulane Chris a fleet enema in the alley behind my apartment. YEAH?!?!11 Yeah. Good. It's a date.

So as I've obnoxiously hinted to on Twitter without offering any clarification whatsoever, Chris and I have been hired to write a third book for Adams Media. Theoretically it's a humor book about the butterfly effect, but mostly we just talk about ghosts and titties. We're hustling to get it done before the September 18th deadline (may God have mercy on our souls), which means that we have less than two weeks to throw a party, promote a book, write a book, stop being so fucking fat, and not mess everything up in the process. While this would be hard enough for two adults, it's especially hard for us because all signs point to the fact that we are somehow 16-years-old.

We wrote the first two books in Chris's apartment in Philadelphia, but we've decided to write this one holed up in my parent's basement in Maryland. As we were listening to the early 00's pop-rock compilation CD "Buzz Cuts" today en route to get ice cream, Red Bull, and candy before our 4:45 curfew, Chris took stock of our situation and we realized that we've essentially regressed back to early high school:

- We spend a good portion of every day listening to the ICP and waiting for our Ritalin to kick in

- My mom gave us her bank card to go to the Giant

- We totally lied to my parent's about where we took their car the other day. (I'd like to say we went out to huff Windex and give each other hand jobs, but we just really wanted soft-serve and were too embarrassed to tell my parents because we just ate lunch.)

- My mom gave us $20 to order a pizza tonight because she and my dad were going out

- We had to haul ass to get the Jeep home by 4:45 today because my parent's needed it and I'm not allowed to drive the Lexus

- We keep sneaking out at night. (To take long walks and clear our minds, but, still.) (And yes, you need to occasionally clear your mind when writing an anthology of ghost/tittie/pube jokes. An art form is an art form is an art form, thank you.)

- We laugh a lot at each other's farts, if I'm going to be perfectly honest.

- We talk about how dreamy Jeremy Piven is. A lot.

So there we are. And here we'll be. In my parent's basement, eating Necco Wafers, listening to ICP and writing a humor book. It's not the worst E! True Hollywood Story every told, but it's pretty damn close. (God bless you, Family Affair: The Anissa Jones Story.)

Can't wait to see you on the 22nd!!!!1!

Drinking Game Friday!

Ok. The dreams, you guys. The dreams have to stop. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in months and it's driving me crazy. I blame a few things for this: Evie, of course, but mostly I blame the god awful recurring dreams I keep having. These dreams are obviously the result of being a whiny little emo bitch, all lost and confused about life, but come on subconscious! Get another hobby! I'm exhausted! It's gotten to the point where before I go to bed I'm like, "Welp, here we go again. Better brace myself for another long night of being pantsless in public or lost on the highway." Sucks.

Recurring Dream #1: TIDAL WAVES. Ugh. Jesus. I hate this one. I'm always hustling to dive into the waves before they break on me. Then I wake up physically exhausted from all the metaphorical wave diving I've been doing, which is a slightly fat-kid move on my part.

Tidal waves or tsunamis suggest a period of emotional upheaval. Anxiety, stress, and unconscious materials may be coming to the surface and affecting your daily moods. Giant tidal waves may symbolize current emotional unhappiness and psychological stress, which are threatening to destroy you.

Oh. Good.

Recurring Deam #2: TORNADOES. 9 times out of 10 I'm running around the house trying to find Evie so I can save her from impending doom. You're welcome, you loud little asshole.

If you have reoccurring tornado dreams consider the emotional changes in your life and also the amount of anger and rage that you may be currently experiencing.

Ugh. I do have a lot of anger and rage. But I plan to take this rage to the badminton court and let the opposing team feel my wrath. AND WHAT?!

Recurring Dream #3: I'M BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL. Jesus god almighty. I have this dream at least three times a week and it's horrible. It's not the fact that I'm back in high school that's so bad, it's the fact that I haven't been to any classes the entire semester and I'm afraid I'm going to be held back. I'm always in class on the final exam review day and I'm like, "Well fuck me, I have no god given clue what this class is about and the final is next week." So then I convince myself that I'll just spend all weekend studying and catching up and everything will be fine and I can graduate on time. But then I have this moment where I stop and think to myself, "Huh. It is oddly out of character for me to just not show up to school for an entire semester. What have I been doing this entire time? Shouldn't my mom be mad at me? Wait...didn't I graduate like six years ago?" And then I wake up. I had this dream last night, except a.) I was Blair Waldorph and b.) I was trying to convince my mom to let me stay home because I didn't want to deal with the stress of talking to my teachers and getting all the work I missed. I distinctly remember running my hands under cold water to make my mom think I was "cold and clammy." I was like, "Ferris Bueller said that's the key to staying home! I have to appear cold and clammy! COLD AND CLAMMY!!!!!" She ended up letting me stay home as long as I helped her deliver Christmas presents to our neighbors. I said no because I was sick and couldn't run around the neighborhood with her all day or I'd puke. Which was a dick move on my part because I was totally faking it. Sorry mom.

To dream that you have to repeat high school, suggests that you are doubting your accomplishments and the goals that you have already completed. You feel that you may not be measuring up to the expectation of others. The dream may occur because some recent situation may have awakened old anxieties and insecurities.

Oooo! Relevant and meaningful.

Recurring Dream #4: I FORGET THE LYRICS IN ROCK 'N ROLL REVIVAL. If you didn't go to Sherwood High School and are unfamiliar with Rock 'n Roll Revival, kindly read up on it here and here (and check out a vintage picture of my sister rockin' out in white go-go boots, snake skin pants and a maroon halter top here) I'm far too exhausted to open that can of worms. Anyway, so I'm back in high school (again) and it's opening night of RRR. I'm a soloist, but I have no idea what my song is, what the lyrics are, what my costume is or when I go onstage. But I can't let anyone know what's up because I don't want to get yelled at by Mr. Evans, so I have to slyly get information out of people like, "Heyyy guy, sing the chorus of that song I sing...I want to hear what it sounds like when you sing it, L0LZ! And have you seen my costume anywhere...?" This dream is six different kinds of pathetic and I hate myself for having it. Last night I dreamt it was opening night and I was at H&M trying to throw a costume together but nothing would zip up past my boobs. Finally I got on stage (half-zipped) and just stood there because I didn't know what to sing. Then it hit me that I was supposed to be singing "This Time I Know It's For Real" by Donna Summer, except I only know the lyrics to the first verse and the chorus. Ugh. I woke up before Mr. Evans could yell at me. You bet your balls the first thing I did when I got to work this morning was google those lyrics. I am now prepared to sing the disco hit "This Time I Know It's For Real" at any given moment. TRY ME!

A stage in the dreams may indicate your need for more respect and attention. Dreaming of standing on stage denotes that before you have success, you need to work for it first.

I don't generally like to work for things. But know what I am willing to work for? Dizzy Tour's Drunken Monument Experience. Oh yea. It will become a reality. So keep July open...wink!

Alright, I'm exhausted. Let's get this drinking game underway. This week we'll be playing Alex's Requiem for a Dream Drinking Game! Quote Alex, "It's nothing special, but it'll still get you pretty toasted." If that's not an amazing introduction to a drinking game, then I don't know what is.


Rules!
Drink When:
- Someone does drugs
- Someone's eye dialates
- The refrigerator attacks Sara Goldfarb
- The game show audience says "Juice by _____"
- There's a shot of Harry's infection getting progressively worse
- There's an amputation
- Someone cries
Empty every bottle of liquor in the house when:
- The old creepy businessman says "ass to ass"

...Then Alex says "most of the drinking should probably be done after the movie is over. Just for comforting purposes."

Thank you so much for reading and we'll of course see you back here Monday morning. If you wanna be a real pal, you can follow us on twitter, join our facebook page and pass this rickity old blog on to a friend. That would be swell. Have a great weekend guys!