Pigtales

Just finished taking a shower at my neighbor's (not that one) house because my hot water heater is still broken.  I loved his shower because it only contained a bar of Irish Spring and a nail brush.  Nothing else.  So manly and cute.  And he tried to decorate his bathroom all by himself and he painted the walls a color that can only be described as vomitous and added a tile pattern to his shower to match the walls.  But his spartan approach to toiletries became annoying when I was looking for some lotion to put on after the shower.  While his shower is cute, guys like this are also annoying because then you can never borrow any of their stuff because you'll smell like a sailor or something.


I'm hanging out on his couch, watching him play video games, and there's a knock on the door and who should walk in but the ex.  I rolled my eyes, gave him a dirty look and left immediately.  So now my neighbor has to deal with explaining to him why I was wearing pj's and looked like I'd just gotten out of his shower. 

In other neighbor news, I thought I'd fill you in on the guy who knocked on my door and drunkenly demanded my number.  Some of you may remember one of my amazing fb updates about almost running over my neighbor one night because he was standing in the driveway in head-to-toe camo holding a crossbow.  (He later informed me it was just a bow.  Eff off, Squanto, I'll call it what I want.)  So it turns out that he is friends with one of my friends and they were over at his place for dinner and would I like to come over?  I was hungry so I went.  He was nice and even invited me to go hog hunting with him this past weekend.

Uhm, weekends (okay, Saturdays since I'm too tired to go out on Friday) are meant for cocktails three ways.  1. Some form of Ketel One in the form of a cocktail.  2.  Cute cocktail dresses.  3.  Girls hanging out always leads to sex stories, so it's tales, but you get my drift.  I will not freeze my ass off in the woods trying to kill something on a perfectly good Saturday night, but thanks for the offer.  Then it dawned on me that I should ask what we were having for dinner.  So yeah, what looked like fish was actually the wild pig he had killed the night I almost killed him.  Awesome.  I love when things come full circle.  So I had to eat it.  (I am not the biggest meat fan.)  And to make it that much more revolting, there was this huge, coarse black hair on it.  It was the poor pig's.  I threw up later.  Fer realz.

So while lying out today I had some epiphanies.  My first one is that VIP/Bottle Service is a bad idea.  Not that I'm always hanging out in the VIP room, but I really love anything that involves velvet ropes and exclusion.  The problem is that once you have the table, you don't have to stand in line to get drinks, and since there's a bottle right infront of you, and you weren't raised to waste other people's money, you need to drink up.  And then you're so comfortable sitting down you don't dance.  And then you're wasted.  Then sometimes you realize you're wasted and stop drinking, but since there is a full can of Red Bull right infront of you, you decide to drink the entire can even though it is already two in the morning.  And here's a pic of me having deep thoughts while hanging out with all my friends last night.  Gay bars are bad for the self esteem but good for never having to wait in line to use the ladies room.

Okay, I have to go to bed.  Will try to finish this tomorrow...