24 March 2009

decry the line

the panty line, that is.

for the sake of full disclosure, i should probably admit to being that skinny bitch who complains when my size 0 pants feel too snug. but this skinny bitch checks her ass every morning, in the full-length runway mirror, before leaving the house advertising that i'm too fat for my panties.

seriously, if your panties squeeze your ass so tightly that a line digs in, and creates the perception that you have four ass cheeks instead of two, i see that you have three options: (1) get over the fact that you no longer fit into those mediums, and buy bigger underwear and bigger pants to fit over your bigger ass and bigger panties, (2) switch to a thong (they really aren't _that_ bad), or (3) stop wearing underwear altogether.

those really are your only options. i'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you look like you don't have a mirror or a clue when you walk around in public sporting four ass cheeks.


23 March 2009

47 martinis in northern california

i've thought long and hard about how best to wrap up this past weekend, this past weekend of random awesomeness which could likely be summarized in a few chosen words, something like 'drunken escapades and age denial' but i fear that a somewhat negative connotation might lead you to believe that it wasn't the BEST WEEKEND EVER!

so, i'm thinking a monday-morning quarterbacking itinerary might be the right approach...

friday, march 20
8 pm - depart los angeles in a prius packed with three women and the kitchen sink, sing alanis morissette at top of lungs for six straight hours.

saturday, march 21
2 am - arrive oakland, move in, catch up, wind down, go to sleep in a living room converted into a camp site

8:30 am - breakfast with law school friends

10:30 am - send texts to sleeping compadres to get their asses up for an adventure across the bay

11:30 am - board BART, destination powell

12 noon - ascend stairs into san francisco, just in time for anti-war protest/rally

12:12 pm - bored with protest, find bar. consume martini's 1-10.

2 pm - halfway to trashed, all board cable car, destination fisherman's wharf. act like drunk monkeys, hang off said cable car, wave at passerby's, take lotsa pictures, try to avoid raindrops, laugh a lot (pee a little in pants from said laughing).

3 pm - low visibility of golden gate bridge and alcatraz. resume drinking. consume martini's 11-25.

4:20 pm - stumble onto dock, in search of facebook photo op (e.g. golden gate bridge hiding behind foggyness). play with nets, climb up and down ladders, dance around, embrace being wasted, take loads of what will later be known as 'classic vacation photos'.

5 pm - still wasted (one of us more so than the rest), run into perverted statue of small child with orgasmic look on his face while appearing to be, um, bumming another small child bent over a fountain. behave obnioxiously. annoy other tourists. laugh hysterically. pee a little in pants.

5:15 pm - skip the cable car for a taxi to union square, destination H&M. compadres sit in floor while i shop (and for the record, 'twas not my idea to shop (in fact, i do believe that the instigator of the shopping leg of the trip was the most wasted of us who caused others to join her in huddle on floor), i just can't stop myself once put into the situation where racks of clothes beg to be tried on and purchased).

6 pm - all board BART, destination oakland.

6:45 pm - projectile vomiting (not me).

7-9 pm - nap

10:30 pm - delicious dinner, mua in oakland, martinis 26-47 (this might be an exaggeration).

12 midnight - strawberry shortcake

1 am - nighty night

sunday, march 22
10 am - breakfast with hostesses

12 noon - visit golden gate bridge, nearly blow away while trying to pose for that perfect facebook picture, dance around, act foolishly, nearly fall down pathway.

12:30 pm - prius on pch, passengers prepared for a seven-hour drive home. visual orgasms around each bend.

10 pm - arrive silver lake. whoever said san francisco to los angeles on the pacific coast highway is a 7-hour drive is mistaken, unless the road is empty, you have a car that can take 90-degree curves at 90 m.p.h., and you have no interest in stopping along the way for facebook photo ops.

as you can probably gather, this trip revolved around the road, booze, misbehaving, facebook photo ops, and quality time with quality people i am honored to call friends. in a word, fucka-awesome!

till the next one...