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.
Lady B and her Twitter ranting
- @porterairlines sooo what happens if I miss my flight??? about 2 hours ago from Twitter for iPhone in reply to porterairlines ReplyRetweetFavorite
- @flyporter sooo what happens if I miss my flight?? about 2 hours ago from Twitter for iPhone in reply to flyporter ReplyRetweetFavorite
- @JenbugTweets Im like 24% sure it's a nude of some chicks back. And it's terrifying. about 10 hours ago from Twitter for iPhone in reply to JenbugTweets ReplyRetweetFavorite
Other Stuff We’ve Written
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
Just to let you know
I would never TELL you to click the ads on this site.
Because that would be wrong.
I am however letting you know how they work - when the ads get clicked, I get a small sum of money I can put towards my the-zombies-are-coming-cause-this-is-the-apocalypse boob job.
And that benefits everyone.