bar two. at this point i’m sort of on my second wind but also realizing how super sick super fast i’d become. we plowed through some wings, saw a guy fall on his ass, another fight, annoying non-stop drunk cackling woman behind us and like, why do we go out for this? next time i’m having a party, the gaggle of losers everywhere was just overwhelming. worse than last year even. i stole that green sash from the first pub we went to.

big Z was in town, crashed on the couch. good times. the zing of the nite was dick fart and lick more-anus, rick moranis’ pornstar alter-ego moniker. oh yeah and these chicks totally scamming on everyone posing as fake missionaries approached us asking for money to paint green shit on our faces. i said you’re missionaries, can i have proof of that please and the chick just nervously laughed, ok bye then. moved on to another table of suckers. um if you’re a missionary from guatemala and africa why are you in a bar past midnite on st. patrick’s day? don’t you do your work during the day? yes, you would IF you were actually a missionary and not a scam artist opportunist. funny thing that guy selling flowers shows up one minute later.

nicely lubed.

a little wasted maybe yeah i’ll admit.

oh jembe. we (i) ripped on the fact that fil didn’t change out of his after work pub warrior yuppie shirt. IT’S DOLCE&GABBANA. ok ok, sorry.

fil and alex were seriously star-struck for the caterpillar eyebrows guy. they know him from when they were 18, total groupies. steve was just pretending. i was like ok lets go kids my ass is hanging out too much for these leer-bags and you didn’t give me a chance to go home and change. plus i got cocked too fast on jameson’s.

gross potato scoops.

aw look at these nerds, same drink, same meal. it never ends.

gahaha.

yes i pointed out how not warm enough it is for flats sans socks (kind of on a hypocritical streak lately yeah) but to defend my judgment we got a ride down to college and only walked a block. still i feel like i’m getting sick. i also only wore this sweater on sunday and my friday outfit standing in line for bloc party was not exactly seasonably-succinct either. (who says succinct what a pretentious cock eh?)

monday is burger nite, i went with the burro favorito and diarrhea? i gave the beans to allison. no matter i had wicked indigestion after this feast.

ahh man.

uhm Señorita can i have a new plate? someone seems to have defecated on mine.

then to the cloak.

love these jeans and red old lady cardi. thanks nat for the deal.

dog party.

it was that time of day a good half hour before dark where the inside of the pub was so so dark and these two black dogs running around you can’t even see ‘em on the black floor.

charlie the puppy.

the bigger one is doug, he’s ian’s dog and yesterday was his birthday. dog birthday shots for all. well not really, only for fil (2 tequilas he came home ripped to me and allison crying on the couch watching in her shoes ha i know if you ever want to have your period with me i’m fine with that)(allison is also moving away, that’s THREE friends i’m losing).

that’d be ian.

one of my shoes flew off a bunch every time the stampede went by.

i’m cool i swear.

doug has the most powerful tail i think i have whip marks on my legs.

seriously can’t see a thing in here so funny.

me and my indigestion.

i’m dreaming of my hot water bottle, couldn’t finish that brew.

oh nice a pervert works here.

post-crying.

“oh there’s something in my eye.”

“my eyes are sweating.”

“someone must be a cutting an onion somewhere.”

“i fell in a river.”

“it’s raining on my face.”

etc.

it took forever to get this movie going, sass dropped in to pick up the dresses, then the movie kept skipping and i had to run the disc under the tap with soap ugh.

whups.

so can you guess which one i’m goin’ with? my little gaybe (trademarked sass word) buddy stanley is the pr/stylist for zoran dobric‘s show, he said he wanted to create a moment (it’s exactly sentences like that make me wish i were a ‘mo. i mean, i tried to say i like to create atmosphere once and i have never lived it down) he wants really pretty girls in the front row yeah flatter me down some stairs why don’t you deal. so, personal (personal treat stef) guests of/front row for my first REAL fashion show, not bad not bad. salivating at the prospect of merch from hitting all the booths too.

yes the irony is not lost on me re: my fashion groupie post. exception, not the rule.

hi stanley.

jamie and i are drunk gchatting right now (which exclusively consists of me typing hahahaha at all of his typos)(he’s loads drunker than i am i’m just tired) and i can’t seem to be able to put down the twitter gun (damn you!)(mc hammer is the only celebrity that is following me back, other than the onion, both follow back everyone. so far i have been passive aggressively replying to the majority of heidi montag’s religious updates, it’s no small feat cos it’s pretty much all she tweets about, that and her cabbage patch kid husband and typing la la la. if there was ever a doubt that there were holes in that chick’s brain well, case is closed son) oh and jamie made a beer run this is the hipster line-up he just endured.

oh and look at this delicious thing i saw after pizza last nite on my way to the john. mmmm. compliments of that place beside rancho relaxo.

the bloc party scene was annoying to the max. friday warriors flocking to the city set out to get F’d ugh times ten kazills. also the singer made a dumb joke about noel gallagher and v fest then strummed wonderwall. sorry overstating the situation much? ps. not funny.