Sunday, September 27, 2009


It’s been a rough week. I have been feeling a little like I am in college, not necessarily in a good way, but not a bad way either. Just spending more time with friends, eating lots of take out, inside jokes, etc. So anyway I was really dying for a good old-fashioned night out at the G-man. Complete with sweats and Miller Lites and my closest friends. Alas, 2 of my favorite friends and bartenders were doing a reunion guest bartending night at a bar in the city we like to take over. Perfect. I rounded up some fellow Penn Staters in our finest football jerseys, along with a few “we aren’ts” you know who you are.

Anyway we snag a seat at the bar from one of my unsuspecting victims. Then another, and another. Yes. We have 4 seats now. But only 2 are at the bar. I refuse to turn around. I want control of the bar and its tenders. The 2 seats behind me are facing our backs and we decide we look like we are in a car. Hahaha. Now the fun begins. We literally pretended we were in a car for 5 hours at the bar. Normal people would have spent 20 minutes playing this game, but we chose to do it for the entire night. That’s right, right past closing time until we were the only ones left. I bet you are wondering what entails pretending you are in a car. Well I had t pull over every time someone needed to pee, and we did a Chinese fire drill to start. PS The Urban Outfitter decided we were in a Prius because it reminded her of Hebrew school. WTF?? Hahah.

For those of you who know me, I am famous for creating a “bubble with my friends and not liking outsiders. This night was no exception. One of our passengers refused to sit in the trunk. What a Dustard. Anyway he got stuck in the sidecar and so I had to roll down my window every time he wanted a beer. Also at one point I decided we needed to do “car shots." These are not to be confused with “car bombs.” I only do car bombs on 2 occasions. Breakfast and Thanksgiving. Breakfast because when I used to stay up all night in college and wait for Mad Mex to open, I would do car bombs because I swore they tasted like chocolate milk. And Thanksgiving, well because it’s a tradition, duh! So anyway, an unsuspecting outsider refused to leave us alone and I was getting annoyed. How did I get him back? .... He will find out when he gets his credit card bill. J

all i wanna do is to thank you. even though i dont know who you are. you let me change lanes. while i was driving in my car. All i wanna do is to thank you. even though i dont know who you are. you let me change lanes. while i was driving in my car


So the other day I went with my boyfriend's bosses wedding with him. It was up in the suburbs near where we grew up. People that live there think the "city" is like another planet. So anyway we make the trek up after a disastrous goodbye session with my tree friend at the airport.There are family pictures everywhere; I think this is so cute. The wedding goes on and blah blah blah. My bf is filling me up with drinks to make this bearable. I am sitting at the half full table with 2 of his co-workers and their spouses. The one husband of a co-worker is a mailman. He is drunk. And funny. He says he has a list of everyone on his route that gets playboy. He marks them with a star. He is telling the 6 months pregnant wife that she is all good and in the clear. He claims he knows everything that is going on with everyone. Who is cheating, who has the cops after them, etc. and he tells her she is in good shape because her hubby does not even get playboy. Ok so then he goes down another list in his head. Yes that’s right, the hot chicks. He says he marks them with a bunny symbol for playboy bunnies if they are hot. He asks the pregnant husband about a variety of so called hot chicks. The smart husbands say no. He says one time of these so called hot chicks asked him if he wanted to come inside and warm his bone. WTF? Who would have though the life of a mailman was so interesting. Anyway the bf goes up to get me a drink and overhears a pretty dirty conversation 2 guys were having about one of the weeding guests. He won’t tell me much but he gives me this hint…. “Can you imagine…” He breathes down the back of theirs necks and says, I don’t have to imagine. That’s whose bed I sleep in every night. Hahaha. Ew what scumbags. But a funny story nonetheless.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009


Couch conversation with the husband this evening...

Me: Babe, I found our new pet!

Husband: No.

Me: You didn't even look!

Husband: Ok, whaaaaat...

And this is what I showed him....

YES PLEASE!!!!!!! Seriously, this could be my new emotional support animal! It's the perfect plan. They say that pigs are smarter than dogs. I would just put it in a winter hat and carry it around. I want to hold it. So freaking cute.


Yesterday at the airport was horrible. I swear their is a 90% chance everyone thought we were lesbians. We showed up late because my brain was so fried and I was so upset that i went to arriving flights instead of departing. Maybe it was subconscious trying to kidnap her. So we pull up fighting back tears and the line to Southwest is long as hell. Shit. So I get out and ask the skycap lady to please let my friend go to the front of the line so she doesn't miss her flight. I help Kelly take her bags to the back of the line all while my car is sitting there unattended with the hazards on. We are hugging and crying and probably freaking everyone out. Kelly saw the guy giving me a ticket and I had to make a run for it. This probably would have been ok if I had been dressed like a normal person. But no I am in black stretch pants with knee high red boots a wifebeater and a scarf with guns on it. I look like a hysterically crying freak. Luckily the tears and boots worked on the cop who was issuing a ticket. He felt so bad for me. He even asked if there was anything he could do for me. Yes, don’t let her leave I said.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Just a quick random happening...

About an hour ago I saw a 60 year old man riding a bike wearing this.....

This seems acceptable (but not really) because he is not sixty and sagging.

Old guy, please don't ever do that again. Thank you.

Saturday, September 19, 2009


So birthday weekend was a complete success. We started off the whole extravaganza with sushi and Blue Moons. The next morning was a fun filled day of mani/ pedis, spray tanning and getting my first tattoo. Just another day which had the end result of matching vampire mistress costumes and directing a bunch of America's Next Top Model wannabes at a photoshoot at the Piazza. Piazza is just like "pizza" but with an extra "a." We ate burgers and grilled cheese and were happy about it. Friday was the best. day. ever. I got to hang out with my favorite people (minus the Blonde Bandit, I miss you). I got to see animals. I got to eat lobster mac and cheese. Perfection.

Ok. So immediately following the best meal of the week, was a stop at the liquor store for the much needed birthday champagne. Then we were off to get ready for the big night. This consisted of 3 girls scrambling through the house sharing makeup, clothes, and jewelry, all while sipping the fine champagne we purchased for $13.95. Everything was going perfectly. We all know the birthday skirt that has been patiently waiting for weeks. Well, this amazing piece of fashion had yet to be altered. Jamie had a plan.... "I will do everything else first and alter the dress right before we leave. This way I will be buzzed by the time I do it and so I won't freak out if I can't do it perfectly. What do you think Kel?" Good plan. The best plan.
A little buzzed off the cheap champagne and about 8 songs into the Britney mix from concert day, I realize I am late, as usual. So I decide that if I can alter the dress in my first shot with safety pins, I should be on Project Runway. Project Runway it is. We hoochie down the street in our finest attire and cab it over to the club. Greeted at the carpet by the Cintron girls, they ask if we want our picture taken. "Do you want to take our picture?" is the question I ask. Yes of course they do, as we are all of the sudden local celebs. We go up to the red room where we meet Little and friends. Let's get this party started.... The vodka and Coors Lights were flowing plenty and good times were just dying to be had.
Our VIP was a plethora of hot twenty something ladies wearing hot outfits. This brought on the creepers and the paparazzi. Take the good with the bad I suppose. Pose, pose, pose. Our picture later becomes the cover for the photographer's online photo album. Yes! We are awesome. The drinks are flowing and the dancing begins. There are a few repeating themes through out the night...." Oh my god Jamie! You look like you're from the Britney Spears Circus Tour!!" "Thank you!". The second..."Oh my god, Kelly! You are the other one from the blog!" Yes, and she is a real person. Some people had begun to believe that Jamie had made her up. By the way, this is a BIG shout out to the girls who read the blog. We do this for you!! Enjoy. The night is still going off without a hitch. We head to the bathroom for a quick pit stop. We go into the stall together like normal girls do. Next thing we know, the stall door swings open while Jamie is in the middle of peeing. "Only one person per stall!!" Jamie responds, "I'm fucking peeing here! Seriously?!" We are being micro managed in the bathroom. So annoying. We get over it, and head back out to the VIP area filled with awesome people.
I love everyone who was there. Everyone was in such a good mood and so much fun. A few were interchangeable, but thats gonna happen. JJ decides to give a few party-goers a lap dance. "I don't like it when daddy strips" says the Urban Outfitter. A few other lap dances occur. All because my friend Fox offers to give me a lap dance for any Britney Spears for my birthday present. The marketing company who threw the party did a really great job and offered a free Costa Rica trip which was rumored to have gone to a Coors Light girl.....???
We end the night with a quick argument with the management fir serving us warm coors light. The mountains weren't blue!!! We win. We leave, happy with our successful birthday madness. Back to the casa for late night talks and more champagne at our fave kitchen table. Oh what a night...

Thursday, September 17, 2009


Alright folks! Believe it or not, Kelly and Jamie are together again! We have many days of fun filled misadventures ahead of us, so there will be plenty to come. But for now, here a few tidbits from Kelly's trip to Philly....

I arrive at the airport with some major anxiety due to the thought of being trapped in a metal flying contraption with strangers who will be stealing my oxygen. Took a pill. Waited for it to kick in. An old man with a really small dog named Elvis sits next to me. Elvis made feel a little better. The arriving flight lands, and the passengers file out. A young guy about my age stumbles out. He announces, "Who wants a drink!" I say "I do!" Of course. He responds, "I like your style", then hands me three free drink tickets for the flight. Thank you young drunk guy!!!! This was going to be a good trip.
The first leg of the trip goes smoothly. We stop in Chicago and wait on the plane for more people. I see a girl with a dog that looks a little past the weight limit for flights. I asked her if they gave her a hard time about the size and weight of her dog. "Well, she is an emotional support dog. They don't put limits on them." Woah..... what the hell? I just said ok, and turned back around. Then I saw her ask the flight attendant if the bacon was ready in the microwave yet. Seriously! I was jealous of the dog getting bacon. Jamie and I have decided that our dogs are now our emotional support dogs wherever we go. No one can question you. This is a REAL thing. Believe it people.....

After a long flight of me waiting for this girl to freak out at any moment I made it to Philly.... where I waited a good half our for Jamie to arrive.... as usual :) Now we are together and happy as can be.
This is pretty much a perfectly accurate picture of the pair, except this dog isn't eating bacon.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


So I just got to go to a very special screening of the Where the Wild Things are movie with one of my favorite people. She knows how much I love it and worked very hard to get me a ticket. My son's room is decorated to revolve around the theme, as will his first birthday party. Let the Wild Rumpus start. She is the same person who would bring me home men's WTWA tees from Urban Outfitters when I was too fat to fit in my small ones. So i wore my small tee all day to represent. (I was very excited) but luckily changed out of it before the screening so i did not look like "that girl." So we got there nice and early and took our perch in the back row overlooking all the hipsters. She proclaimed these were the "blow job seats" and that she was hoping to get some. Did it work? I'll never tell. So the scenery was great (hipsters all dressed alike but thinking they are so original) but the movie was even better. I loved it from the first scene. I don't want to give away too much on here because I hope you will all go see it. The kid who played Max was great, it was a great play on the book, it was funny and even relatable. Everything was awesome, the soundtrack, the effects, the concepts, the voices, I can't say enough great things about it. Go Wild Things!!!!!

Monday, September 7, 2009


More shopping delusions.....

                ASOS Lace Dress
             Steve Madden Regaal Pumps
     Floral Cutout Top- Metro Park
BSTUDLOYAl Purple studded bag- Steve Madden

Saturday, September 5, 2009


I have well on my way to starting a collection of 27 dresses, so I am somewhat of an expert on all things weddings these days. All my friends have great taste (duh, they are friends with me), so I have gotten to see some really cool and different ideas at all the weddings I have been at. One of which had the best wedding planner I have ever met, Mark Kingsdorf from Queen of Hearts. Check out his blog below.

Mark has a great way about him, and also happens to be my Facebook friend. Today he posted pictures of an amazing wedding with the coolest cake. I had to share.... enjoy.


Last night I got to experience something pretty cool, as I usually do. Hence the blog. First off, FF and BB had a stop off between venice and St. Lucia at my casa in the City of Brotherly Love. Let me first say BB and I had not 1 but 3 conversations about how excited she was to get here. We determined it was on Mojito 3, 5 and 7. Anyway, I have never seen anyone so excited to leave Venice Italy to come to Philthadelphia. But they are some pretty awesome people here so i get it. Some friends had an Art Gallery opening in an artsy part of town.

And me and my hookers are off.... DISCLAIMER HERE.... if you are easily offended or thing you are ugly, skip this paragraph. If you are reading this, its not about you, really. So as we are walking in, I give them the heads up. "there might be some ugly people here, but they are interesting." The best response actually came from Frosted Flake instead of the Bandit here. "Ugh. Seriously, I don't even like be associated with people like that." Haha! he said "people like that." Like they are lepers or something.
So we walk into the design studio and get to see lots of great people we know and love. It was really great to see my cousin, who had submitted some artwork. She had actually seen a repost of the event I did on the Book. Oh, the miracle of Facebook!! So I am greeted by a non-ugly who asks if I remember meeting her at 4am the night after Britney. The answer is "No." She proceeds to tell me I am hilarious (I love her already) and that someone was telling me I looked like a young Madonna. Its all coming back to me now.... I did a little woo hoo and and danced and asked if that was my original response. She says "yes."
We make an adventure to the unisex bathroom where we decide to make small talk with randoms. BB tells them she was bit by an Italian Mosquito. Random dude looks at her like she is nuts. "How do you know its Italian?" he responds. "Duh it was in Italy." C'mon now randoms, keep up with us here.
The opening was a success. The designers did great and so did the artists. I forgot to mention the event was sponsored by Coors Light!! Just like life :) There was one particular print BB and I did not like. Actually we hated it. It was a naked girl with an eagle head on. That part was fine. It was the puffy vag that completely freaked us out. We had to call in back ups, so we asked the guys, is that Photoshopped? Response.... "haha, no. Don't be so critical, they don't all look the same. Sure she's a little beat up, but it happens." Vomit in my mouth. I am never having sex again. Not if thats the end result. Gross.

Here is the link to said friends Blog if interested in checking it out!!


Two of my best friends are on their honeymoon, Blonde Bandit and Frosted Flake. This is very difficult for me because I am used to talking to BB everyday. Not to mention she had to leave the day after I got some very disappointing news--- literally the day before she left. So needless to say I have been DYING to talk to her. She is in the Canary Islands and is already drunk. So this was the best conversation ever. She proceeds to tell me about her $120 mani/ pedi. Then the visit from a gardener in a hazmat suit. Everyone, yes EVERYONE regardless if you should be or not, wears bikinis, or even worse, goes topless. One women was even coined “Salami Nipples.” Please not this will be followed by an in detail blog of all of the characters they have encountered on this journey.

She ends this conversation by saying.... "Frosted Flake is the best. I can sum it up in one sentence." I think her next answer is going to be.... "I just love him." This was not the case. Her one sentence was actually a paragraph about her missing Britney. Frosted Flake said he would go with her. Thats love.

Here's a quiz for all you Lunch Meat lovers.... "What Lunch Meat are You?"

You are BOLOGNA. The baloney meat.
What Lunch Meat Are You?

Friday, September 4, 2009


I went the mall today for my latest fix, which was of course followed by buyers remorse in the shape of nausea. Well as I was leaving the mall with my anxiety levels pretty high, I had encounter with a fellow human. Let me just set the scene. I was in some slow moving traffic trying to enter the highway when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a guy in a red mustang all up on my ass. He was wearing white sunglasses and had a chick in the car with him.

This is him..

I am going to guess he was in his early college years. My first thought naturally, was "douche." So we are moving along slowly, almost to the onramp when Vag face behind me grows impatient. He swerves out of the lane and right up next to me. He then sticks his asshole of a hand out of the window, flicks me off, and speeds off in his newly daddy bought car. With tension in my head already high from spending money that I shouldn't have, something snapped. I cut right out of line behind him and proceeded to follow him. He was speeding right along the service road and I was doing my best to keep up with him. I didn't exactly know what I was going to do when I caught him really, but on I went. It took 3 lights to catch a red one. He stopped, and I drove up right next to his driver side window, and started honking profusely. He looked over at the crazy person, i.e me. I rolled down my window. He already had his down from the flicking off minutes before. I then asked him nicely, what the fuck his problem was. He doesn't respond, so I ask him louder. The girl in his front seat doesn't look over. He then tells me to F off, and all of those other wonderful sayings. I told him what a horrible human being he is, and that I hope he totals his car and catches an STD. The light turns green, I throw my gum at his car, it goes in his window. He drives off. The guy really was a horrible human.

Ok, so what’s a GoGirl?

Simply put, GoGirl is the way to stand up to crowded, disgusting, distant or non-existent bathrooms. It’s a female urination device(sometimes called a FUD) that allows you to urinate while standing up. It’s neat. It’s discreet. It’s hygienic.

Go Girl is easy to use. Just lower your panties, and put GoGirl against your body, forming a seal. Aim and, well, pee. Pretty simple, huh?

WTF? Really? Is this necessary? I had no idea that there was a big market out there of women who just don't want to sit down to pee anymore. We are females! This is what we do. We sit, we pee, the end. This Go Girl contraption just isn't natural. And they try to sell it as a cute little pink accessory you can just throw in your purse and go. They also give you the option of discarding it after use, or cleaning it for future uses. NO. Yes, we all hate nasty bar bathrooms, but we deal. It's called the hover. It not only keeps your butt of the contaminated STD toilet seat, but it also seconds as a leg workout. Embrace the hover. No need for a pink funnel against your vag. Ladies, we have been drunk pee squatting in alleys for years now, and have been just fine. No thank you Go Girl. I commend you for thinking outside the "box" (ha), but really.... no thank you. I am going to stick with my female instincts, and keep with the sit and pee. I suggest you do the same.

Thursday, September 3, 2009


Hellooooo all. first of all, if you read this and are not followers you should be. Its the cool thing to do. And onto blog time....

I just had the best night with some great friends who I have missed dearly. They got me through my move to Philly and I appreciate them so much. Specifically i want to mention my friend Fox. Tonight we discussed the meaning of the song Birthday Sex. We have very different interpretations of the song. She sings it as "First Date Sex"..... hahah. Perfect, I mean why not have sex on the first date if you are good at it?? I personally sing it as "Birthday Skirt" because frankly the only thing on my mind these days is fall clothes, and if you are reading this, you know about my birthday skirt. Anyway, these girls are nuts, in the best way possible. We got in a tiff over the Britney concert and not meeting up. DJ.... play our song.... Gimme More. Let's dance together... ok problem solved. We all love each other again. As we should. We get to be those girls you want to be, dancing by yourself (you know someone will join eventually) and having the time our lives. Always. Be jealous. I would be.


You ask any one I know, especially Jamie, I pretty much want a baby really bad every other day. Today the itch is bad. More like a rash really. I work with kids every day of my life pretty much, and yet this still does not deter me. This evening while at work I was handed the keys to a brand new Lexus SUV in order to drive the kiddos home to their beautiful house. On the drive to my pretend house, I was thinking, " I could totally do this in my own life." So the daydreaming started. I realize that I live in a duplex half the size of their living room, but I am an idealist. My next door neighbors moved out at midnight last night ( which now that I come to think of it, is a little sketchy). Just a side note, these are the neighbors who would randomly take naps on the front porch with their baby. Anyway, sketchy neighbors gone. My idea was to just knock down the wall that makes this place a "duplex", and qucickly make it a house. With baby room. Yes, this is what I will do! The dividing fence will come down in the back too. I will paint, and decorate, and baby proof my new non duplex house. The plan is going very well in my head. My phone rings, it's the landlord. He informs me that a single lady with cats is my new adjoining neighbor. There goes baby daydream. I hope she doesn't nap on the porch with these cats. I still want a baby. Need a new plan.



After last night's post I had another slightly amusing experience with some drunken 21 year olds in the bathroom. They were trying so hard to look cute it made my eyes hurt. But underneath it all, they were pretty cute. With their un-jaded outlook on guys, life and wrinkles. They clearly spent more time on their hair then it took me to drive to bumblef**k. Anyway, here I am standing in line for the one stall bathroom, in front of me is one girl trying too hard, one not trying hard enough. There's one in the stall, what is she doing. She is swaying and probably trying to avoid peeing on her feet. She comes out of the stall and screams with glee. she is friends with "Trying Too Hard." "Not Trying Hard Enough" goes next and I try not to stare at the wobbling goofy girls I am now trapped with in an enclosed space. (Note I can't be annoyed, this was me 7 years ago. Ok, 4). Ok NTHE is done and leaves me alone with these 2. They go in the stall together. The stall is made for midgets, and I can see the tops of their heads. They shut the door and seriously think they become invisible and apparently, soundproof. They proceed to laugh and talk about how they were getting on this girls boyfriend when she walked to the bar. Haha, brave! and again this was me and my friends so I do not judge. but I am clearly sober, do they think i can't hear them. they go into detail. This is funny.... talking about what is going on beneath this guys jeans and how the girlfriend is so stupid. maybe they are the stupid ones. Never underestimate my ninja spying abilities. To rat them out or not to rat them out. I decide against it and watch the night unfold as it may....


Wednesday, September 2, 2009


I am sitting at the bar doing work. Literally. I am the only person in here (besides my employees) who is not on a mission to get drunk. I am on a mission to get into my bed. Here's some insight into my day today. Art Gallery opening- Keg tubs and cups, check. Event turned circus themed birthday party- specials, check. Outfit... in the works. Make gazillions of kits for events and figure out how to methodically get them where they need to go. Event every event of my life into google calendar. Try to figure out how to make Evite for my kids birthday party. Fail. Call friend who is way better at that. Next event. Find slutty skirts for the girls to wear. Figure how how many extension cords it will take to make the fog machine work (is this my job, really??). Feed baby. Yell at dog. Take dog out. Yell at baby. Let baby take every DVD off the shelf. Back to work. How many parties can I plan? Schedule more events. Carry laptop in one arm, baby in other to take dog out.... again. My neighbors think I am crazy. Oh wait thats because I am wearing flannel pans with dogs on them in 90 degree weather. My house is an igloo. Go to my disaster of a storage unti for an hour. Can't find what I need. Make what I need from a t-shirt. Find cheerleader costumes that smell like they have been in the unit since 95. Where were they last year when i wanted to be a cheerleader for Halloween? Drive an hour to be that girl at the bar sitting on her computer. The one with no shoes on because I am pretending I am on my couch. The one googling pictures of chincillas. Trying to do admin. Jimmy Buffett is blasting in my ear, and everyone looks like they just rolled out of bed. They think they are hot. They dance seductively, or so they think. They ooh and ahh over the blinking necklaces. They ask me why I am not drinking. I tell them I am in AA. They buy it and feel bad for me. They leave me alone. They then bring me a shot. Ok, so apparently no sympathy for those in AA. I tell them I am driving. Still no sympathy. I am being peer pressured by people who have antlers on their car. Yes, for real. usually this type of interaction is easily avoided by convincing them I am crazy. One night I was looking for an electrical outlet in the bar. Some one asked if I was looking for an animal. I said "yes." He said what is it? Me: a chinchilla. Its my pet. Him: You are never gonna find it in here. Me: I will if you help me. Next thing you know I have 3 guys in their fifties helping me search for my alleged missing chinchilla. I tell them it is a joke. they are only slightly amused. They then tell me I look like a Lion Tamer. Is this supposed to upset me? Its doesn't! Thanks!!! I love Lions! and tamers! and it reminds me of Britney, so I am happy.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009


So there are some days in my life where I am just sort of a mess inside and out. Today was one of those days. Haven't showered in a few days (don't worry, this is totally normal for me), haven't done laundry in a very long time, and have had too much wine for the past 3 nights (this begs the question why super husband married me). You see, these are the days that I call my "homeless person days." This is because I feel as if I look homeless. My hair is greasy, my clothes are a mess, and makeup just doesn't seem to be doing the trick. I go out in public anyway, just because I don't really care. Maybe I will get a few bucks thrown at me here or there, or maybe just a free cup of coffee. Love that coffee. My mom called me this morning and asked how I was, and I answered, "Good. Looking homeless today though." She understood. These days call for a hairstyle that me and Jamie both embrace. Rhonda hair. This is when you pull up your bangs to make a bump just above your forehead and stick in the damn bobby pins. Some days the hair is higher than others. Today was average height I would say. It really is just a great way to cover up the flat greasy part in your hair. It works wonders! So if you are ever feeling like a homeless look alike, feel free to use the Rhonda hair tip. You're welcome.


AFTER! Thanks Rhonda!!


Today I woke up particularly exhausted. And not looking forward to doing payroll. After recovering from a serious Britney hangover yesterday, it was back to work with the girls. Last night we did a photoshoot. Why you ask? Because they are hot and thats what we do. Luckily I had some great help from some great friends and an awesome time was had by all. Here's how it went down. I tell the girls to wear more make-up. I tell them to be ready in their silver booty shorts. I tell them to look up Maxim online for poses. I tell them to drink more beer. The beer that I carried in 4 inch heels, because thats what I do. They drink beer and eat pizza and look amazing in their uniforms. I just figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be them. I have come to realize I am the soccer mom to their total hotness. And now I want Botox. Or I at least need to go to the gym.


We arrive at a tailgate my friend from college threw. Note that she is one of the craziest people I know. She was my college roommate as we were the only ones who found humor in capes and aliens in tri-delta. No surprise she now manages about 30 young, skinny hot girls and her job is to throw parties, tell them what to do and have them worship/fear her. Basically her job is to be a continuous Senior in a sorority. Jealous.
She first tells me how excited she is for Britney and that she asked a pancakeon the road this morning if he had seen her yet. Yep, that’s what she said. Actually, she corrected herself and said that it was really a hamburger. He said that he has not seen her.



Sunday afternoon was quite possibly one of the best days of my life. Yes my friends, it was the long awaited Britney Spears concert. And I must say, it was more than I expected. First off I got to gather around with about 30 friends, new and old to do the types of things I haven't done since college, but missed dearly. Starting off we pulled into the lot closest to the door, and the radio stations. We are determined to get famous today. And see Britney. We are stalking her. We figure the best way to do this is to drink mass amounts of Coors Light and eat junk food. Cheese balls are everywhere. We decide to make a game of it with sidewalk chalk and a target. Now we must use the sidewalk chalk to profess out undying love from Britney with a huge drawing that reads, "OMG Britney." Of course. the night progresses as lots and lots of people come by the tailgate to witness the craziness that is happening. Oh PS we are all dressed up in full out Britney gear (aka slut attire). We heckle everyone that walks past in an outfit we feel is trying to outdo us. My other half of the day and I decide we must match at all times. This includes a costume change. We are at Britney after all. This costume changes for me includes a neccessary undergarment change. Since my one year old has spilled coffee all over my most Britney hot pink bra, it was still damp when we arrived. I hung it from the back of the truck. problem solved. Now salute it. Random people want in on this tailgate. and to be in our pictures. They love us. Fame= success. Ok Britney is about to go on and we are just not drunk enough. Its time for shots. My "little" carries around a cooler lid full of shots. She is on a mission. We all are. Ok now would be a good time to play with fireworks. Lets all light off sparklers and try to burn off any extremities. Ok, we did not make enough of a scene. Lets put 5 in a bottle then light them off. Yay!!! Sparklies!!! Now pose for pictures with it. Actually, pose for pictures everywhere. Its time to go in. Best concert ever. EVER. I immediately decide I want to be her (as always) and text everyone I know. Concert ends way too soon. Time to meet up at the tailgate. More pictures please. Oh there's a motorcycle. We must pose slutty all around it. And drink more beer. And eat more cheeseballs. And.... we still have sidewalk chalk. Let's lay on the ground and pretend we are dead. We take turns tracing each other holding hands on the ground and one turns out like Herman Monster, the other has a penis. Now what? Cheeseballs on the crotch. And the ridiculous-ness was only beginning....