SWEET HOOKERS ALIVE YOURE STILL HERE?!?!
Blah blah blah I’m the worst ever but I love you and I missed you all and I’m sorry I did that thing again where I go away without even leaving you a text message or a post it or a messenger fox.
I sort of really love my new job because since I last wrote on this here fancy blog, I’ve been to New York (twice) and Orlando to actively pretend I’m a grownup. ONLY unlike the old job, I get to dress like me rather than pretend I look good in a power suit.
Because I don’t.
Only hot people look good in power suits. Because they’re already good looking.
They could rock up to the office wearing a paperbag and people would be all “hmmm yes, attractive AND professional”.
I, however, have given up looking professional and simply go for badass. Which sort of works because all my clients are based out of New York and expect me to wear leather.
Suddenly I sound exactly like a prostitute.
IM NOT A PROSTITUTE MOME (guys, I’m totally a prostitute. A technology prostitute. Without the sex.)
ANYWAY last time I was in New York I got home early one night and was all “I don’t feel like going to bed” so I went down to the hotel bar to have a glass of wine and stare out the window so I could pretend I was Carrie Bradshaw but with a better ass.
Only when I ordered my wine at the bar, a girl was all “nice iphone case” and I was all “Thanks, sometimes I drop things and they stop working and then I have to pretend to speak on my phone when creasy people make eye contact with me on the streetcar, rather than ACTUALLY call people which is what I usually do.”
And that was how I met two of the most awesomely random people that live in New York.
You see, the girl that spoke to me was the MOH for the lovely bride sitting next to her. And that bride was getting married the next day. So she and I talked about weddings and how we hate picking flower arangements and don’t give two shits about seating plans and then I did this thing where I bought two bottles of wine and a round of shots for us all and we. Got. Plastered.
Like, shut the bar down, sing along with the Michael Buble CD , confess that we’re afraid of Brazillian waxes DRUNK.
So at 3 am when we got kicked out of the bar, we did what ALL logical brides to be should do: We went to Duane Reede and bought fish crackers, Advil and nail polish and went back to the hotel and gave ourselves manicures.
I have no idea when they left my room but they didn’t steal my laptop or kidneys.
I simply awoke in my room with the WORST pedicure known to man in a bed COVERED in fish crackers.
If you enjoyed this article, please consider sharing it!
11 Responses to I think this is the 15th blog post featuring goldfish crackers. Also – HI! I’m Back. Missed you.
Leave a Reply
- @porterairlines sooo what happens if I miss my flight???
- @flyporter sooo what happens if I miss my flight??
- @JenbugTweets Im like 24% sure it's a nude of some chicks back. And it's terrifying.
“I simply awoke in my room with the WORST pedicure known to man in a bed COVERED in fish crackers.”
Greatest line ever… glad you’re back!
Meeee tooo!
If I don’t blog I tend to ramble at well dressed strangers.
God I love well dressed strangers…
I love random people meeting. One time when GoldDust and I went out, this couple tried to set me up with their friend, who was actually really cute.
IRREGARDLESS.
I got the number of the girl who was trying to hook her friend up with me. Then yelled at men the rest of the night.
“It’s not hard to get a girl’s number! Did you see how quickly I did that? YOU ARE ALL A FAILURE TO YOUR SPECIES!”
lol… its such a shame you aren’t a lesbian…
Lol, i’ll still love you forever.
Oh…boy. I shouldn’t skim. I read that as you waking up to a MAN covered in fish crackers, and wondered how two bachelorette party peeps turned into a dude with goldfish.
I’ve learned my lesson, and shall read slower (the second time, because that was WAY too funny) from now on.
Glad you’re back!
I like that you weren’t surprised about a dude showing up with a fish. Just the logistics of how I ended up there.
Lets pretend that means you think I’m “interesting” rather than “overwhelmingly whoreish and into fish”.
AND THIS IS WHY WE NEED TO RANDOMLY MEET. STAT.
See this is where I get confused, HOW DO WE PLAN A RANDOM MEETING?!
Someone should make that a business. Helping people meet each other in a way that seems totally coincidental.
Welcome back! It’s hard to deny the amazingness of fish crackers. If it makes you feel better, I paid for my manicure last time and it still was awful. Also she did that thing where they grab the “cuticle” and rip it off, except it’s not a cuticle it’s just your finger flesh? yeah…owe.
I HATE that!!
It’s also why I pretty much only paint my nails red… the blood from the missing finger skin blends right in..