I think it is safe to say that I don't do things half-assed. Which is how "I love to rollerskate!" turned into "I'm joining the roller derby!" But with just as much clarity and whole-heartedness, I am not afraid to change directions mid-stream, or own up to a serious mis-calculation. (Which is how this derby girl went from skating to refereeing to, well.......they say they still love me. So that's something. My neck on the other hand.....not so much. Maybe once I can turn my head to the left again I can consider bouting, but until then ful body assaults are pretty much out, unless of course they are involuntary.) (Well, those are out too, with any luck.)
My lastest adventure/dumb idea was to break out a dress I wore to homecoming in 1992, and sashay my ass down to the karaoke bar for the next in the weekly series of karaoke contests. Surely, you remember this little gem from last weeks' contest.
Well, we done classed up the joint this time.
I made the mistake of trying a different fruity drink - another of the many MANY ill-advised decisions I have made in my life. And here is my final ruling: Fruity drinks suck ass.
No cocktail should have more than 2 or 3 ingredients. Otherwise you are trying too fucking hard. Jack and coke. Shot of tequila. Maybe a margarita if you are in a place that has decent ones. But otherwise, don't do it man. Don't fall for the pretty drink with the cherry on top. You will live to regret it. And you will wish you had just died - it would have been more pleasant than the aftermath of the "Snooki Punch" I took for a trial run last week or the "Shark Infested Waters" I jumped in last night. Trust me on this.
But I did still fit into a dress from 20 years and 2 kids ago. Apparently, my ass is bigger and my tits are smaller and i grew a few inches (!? The hell?) How unfortunate. Mother Nature is a stone cold bitch.
20 hours ago