BIGGER CITY BUT SMALLER CIRCLE?

Lets forget about that last wibbly post for a minute and get back to some debaucherous details. And let's talk about how either I've gone into a warp of coincidences or, despite moving to a bigger city, my sex social circle has some how shrunk...

See... I was out with Charlotte tonight (note: it's a thursday) and her "work event" turned into a full on night out and somewhere between the dancing on tables and enjoying the free bottle service I looked up and in the haze of flashing neon lights and fog I see Nathaniel.

I shit you not.

How is it that I went through 5 YEARS of manhattan whoring and only ran into my men a handful of times but here, in a much bigger city, I run into him a week later?

Lemme paint you a little picture so you understand just how ridiculous this is; in New York I went to, maybe, 3 bars on the regular. I had a pretty steady routine. Which meant that my odds of running into people that I picked up in bars was extremely high. But I never really did. I mean if it wasn't for my work hookups and the fact that Shiv's coworker kept dragging EMT guy around (I never did remember his name) I wouldn't have ever seen any of them!

Either I was spoiled and led to believe in unrealistic odds or this is a fluke.

Because I wasn't in the same bar, on the same night as before. No. I was half an hour across town in a club, not a bar, on a thursday for a work event! So yeah, I was a little surprised when Mr. Fancypants Nathaniel showed up in his perfectly pressed white button down and Armani jeans.

Damn that boy can dress.

Anyways. I see him, he doesn't see me. Which is good because I haven't managed to find a hair straightener here in the UK yet and my make up was subpar at best. So I'm pleased. But I'm still raging on the dance floor so it's not long before he has seen me.

Bad hair and makeup and all.

But I'm looking pretty decent in my LBD and nude pumps so at least I have that going for me. And then suddenly I'm back in middle school at the awkward dance and I'm jamming with my girl Charlotte and he's sort of half leaning on the DJ booth, half shuffling from side to side.

On opposite sides of the dance floor.

Like children.

Oh wait. He is a child. Well there's his excuse. And I will use vodka as mine. Because other than some, what I am told is, superb lip biting and sexy eyes-from-across-the-room moves I made no effort to actually go say hi or try to, I dunno, dance together.

What a concept.

So I guess the moral of the story is that as far as sex and vodka go, we're all still in middle school.

Oh.. and London is way to fucking small.

xxKK

ON POPPING MY BRITISH CHERRY

So now that I've finished my rant about women having the right do to whatever the fuck they want with their vaginas I decided to go out for a rage and.. well.. do whatever the fuck I wanted with my vagina.

So I met up with my london gal pal and partner in crime, Charlotte, and we headed out into the night equipped with our wedges, lipgloss and predrink buzz.

We ended up at this bar that mostly smelt like vomit with potent drinks (hence the vomit smell) and an... erratic DJ.
Seriously I have to assume this guy was trippin balls on ritalin laced with acid because his music selection was just.. impossible. We're talking savage garden followed by old school beastie boys then backstreet boys then just compilations of lasers and dying animals.

And the crowd was loving it! There was some serious raging going on on the dance floor.

At first I felt that I was a littttle out of my element. But then I said fuck it, theres booze, how out of my element could I be?

3 hours later we were smashed, had lost 5 of the 7 people we'd arrived with and were ready to crawl back home. Charlotte stopped to bum a ciggy off of some fine gentleman from Australia and that's when I met him.

His name is Nathaniel.

Nathaniel.

Seriously?

I must be in England because that's a fancy ass name. And he looked fancy to match it. Despite the messy sort of night we'd had and the messy sort of bar we were in, Nathaniel was still perfectly pressed in a crisp white shirt that was tucked into jeans that cost more than my monthly rent. And don't even get me started on his perfect fucking face.

Needless to say we did not go home and get into our jammies like good girls should, noooo, we stayed and had more drinks and then when we were really tired we went back to Charlottes house and had a few more drinks.

That's about the time that Nathaniel, in very polite and proper fashion, invited me home with him.

Well. It's gotta happen some time and if I have to pick someone to pop my British cherry with I'm gonna take a guy that looks like he belongs in a magazine.

So we head off and we're chatting and then it slips out. He's a bit younger than me. I think, not a big deal, if you remember I just had Giles, the 20 year old, back home. Young is clearly not a problem for me.

No biggie.

So we get home and have some really glorious sex. This was not a Giles re-do, this kid knew exactly what he was doing.

*sigh*

The sad thing about great sex is that it always has to come to an end.

Which it did. But in the morning I got to have round 2,3 and 4. So I guess I can't really complain ;)

And in the morning we're lying there in post-mind-blowing-sex glory and we start chatting some more and I'm being nosy and looking around his immaculate room in his immaculate apartment and I spy a yearbook.

I love yearbooks (I was editor in chief of mine) so I grab it to leaf through and look at what a fancy English boarding school looks like when I catch sight of something terrifying.

"2012"

....

It's printed across the front of the yearbook in great big golden letters.

So, trying not to have a full freak out, I casually ask "is this yours?"

He tells me yes, and I say "but it says 2012" and he says "yeah. I graduated in June."

As in.. June 2012. As in this past June. As in the kid I just spent hours having sex with was graduating high school a year after I graduated from college.

This prompted a litttttle bit of a freak out which led to him telling me that it's fine... he's old for his year, he's been 19 for ages.

Somehow that just didn't make me feel better.

Anyways, on that horrifying note I found it was about that time to put my pants back on and crawl back to Charlottes so that I could try to sleep away some of the shame.

Naps had no effect unfortunately.

Once I made it home and had brushed out the sex-induced knots in my hair and told the story to a few friends it didn't seem so bad and now I'm basically over the shock and into the phase where I pat myself on the back for pulling a hot guy who's actually awesome in bed.

Good job Kitty. Good to know the move hasn't hurt your game. If anything, in fact, it seems to have upped your skillz. I'm slightly more confident now. Still need to get a job and figure out all this relocation stuff but hey, at least I've got one thing down pat.

xxKK

RECAP AND CATCH UP

Hey kids,

Long time no see. My fault, I know. I've been a little MIA for the past, oh I dunno, 3 months. But I had this whole debacle happen with Skip and Eric and then some work drama and moving drama and moving away from New York drama and it just all got a little much.

But its still not fair. I promised debauchery! And things are a little different now so I don't know how much of that promise I'll be able to keep but by god I will try.

Let's catch up.

So Skip found out that I had hooked up with Eric and stopped talking to me.

I vowed never again to see Eric but then Skip still didn't talk to/ forgive me so when Eric invited me out for his birthday I went.

That "early night" turned into triple shots of jager and crawling back into Erics bed.

Eric, instead of being fun drunk, decided to get all deep and emotional and thats not really my thing so that was a buzzkill. He still tried to insist on birthday sex... and we sort of did but he was drunk and couldn't keep up so my birthday present to him was pretending it was good for me.

After that he started texting and calling me all the time. Started talking about how he knew all the guys I slept with. In a creepy he-remembers-better-than-I-do way. Told half the people I know that we were dating and the other half that we had soooo much sex.

This was a clingy situation and, frankly, not to my liking so I cut him from my roster.

Run into Skip a few days later and he's completely find with me. like no problem at all. Because he wasn't mad.. no of course not.. he was just busy with his new job. I mean... why would he be mad that I was hanging out with his best friend? Right?

Yeah...

That awkward answer led to him asking if I'd slept with Eric... it's a small town. People talk. I wasn't going to lie to him! So I told Skip the truth and then he was mad for real.

But whatever.

You can't sex breakup with me and then get mad when I sleep with your best friend! I mean I get that it was kind of slutty but it's not like I knew who he was when I met him. Gosh.

After that I took some detours along the slutty train to make out with some ex-coworkers and a boy in a hot tub.

Then I took a trip to uncharted territory.

I became a cougarette.

I was partying with some boys I know from high school and they had this hot guy I'd never seen before with them. And he gave me that look. The one that lets you know that they want to take you home. And they get what they want.

I wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such a look.

I swooned.

Now lemme paint you a little picture. This guy, looked like Josh Harnett, circa 2002, with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

Spitting image. 

Swoon with me this time kids.

So we start talking and its charged and sexual and he invites me to an afterparty where we make out until one of my old buddies from HS tells me exactly who I'm kissing.

This is Giles... Charlie's baby cousin. Who is 20. Who just turned 20. And is three years younger than me and related to my very serious ex.

I tell Giles this isnt a good idea but hey, he's young, they're second cousins and he's very persuasive.

So we go back to his apartment and I learn that some kids just don't know how to use what god gave them.

So disappointing.

But at least I got to look at that beautiful face while I was disappointed.

The next morning Giles tried to get my number so we could hang out and I laughed a little and  then told him I was leaving in two days. He was sad, but that's to be expected. Oh well.

Two days later Skip calls and wants to get together on my last night at home. I think we're gonna make up and... make up... but after a drink that I stretched a painful 2 hours and a rousing conversation about my big move he kissed me on the cheek and wished me well.

What the fuck?

You don't just call up a sex buddy that you aren't speaking to for drinks and then not sleep with them. It's just mean.

So being a child I instantly texted one of my guys friends, Austin, about my disappointing turn of events and he invited me over to remedy the situation.

Now... this was a little out of the blue. I mean I've known Austin since I was 14 and other than this one time when I was 15 where I made out with him for like 20 seconds I haven't had any interaction like that with him before. We're buddies. He helps me with my inability to fill motor vehicles with fuel and I provide witty commentary and banter.

But I was bored, super stressed about the move and 5 minutes from him so I threw on my sweat pants and went to Austins.

He greeted me in basketball shorts and a wifebeater, looking pretty fine, and then we just chilled out for 2 hours. We were sort of watching Transformers but that just turned into my ragging on Megan Fox and her bitchy cheekbones so after a while he turned it off and asked what I wanted to do.

Well... you know me..

Anyways I won't give you the details because this is just an overview, a quick catch up and it's getting pretty long, but I will say that it was the best fucking stress relief I've ever had. And Austin is fucking mad cool so I'm really hoping that we continue to... help each other out... whenever I'm home.

He's one of like... 3 people I talk to regularly from home.

Well.

That was summer back home. I have one story from my brief visit back to New York and a load of stuff to tell you about my new home but for now I'll just bid you adieu and say I've missed you and I hope that you're still checking in every now and then, even if I did desert you for a few months.

Love love love.

xxKK

LIGHT ME UP LIKE A GLOW STICK, BABY.

After the injuries of last week I decided I needed to a) not hook up with vag breakers anymore b) probably find a new playmate and c) rave the pain away.

Success on all counts.

A) I saw Grant at happy hour and, despite the fact that I basically walked into a trashcan, I managed to play it cool and just give him a friendly wave. 

B) While out on Thursday night I found myself in VIP with bottle service with some old coworkers and  I met two new hot boy friends. One, who right now doesn't really matter, and Eric. A blue eyed bad boy with a wicked smile and sense of humor. He worked pretty hard to keep my attention and, not only did he ask for my number, but he also used it. He used it to send me sweet nothings and make plans for the next night.

C) About that next night. There was a rave at one of the bars so after I went to happy hour, dinner and drinks with Marie, I met up with Eric and my girls and went down, dressed in a blindingly neon green shirt and sunglasses. Because I wear sunglasses at night. Because I'm a douchebag. 

Now, for the record, I haven't been to a rave since I went through my... precarious party phase in New York. And I don't really rage like that anymore so I went thinking I'd have a few drinks, dance under the strobe light, head home early. 

NOT THE CASE.

I had a few drinks, danced under the strobe light, fell down some stairs, raged like a true raver, ended up on stage at some point, got yelled at by the bouncer and, at around 2:30, blitzed out of my mind, left with Eric. 

First we went back to Eric's friends house to listen to a really weird mix of music and do vodka shots and be weird. Left around 6 am. Went to Eric's where I promptly demanded to be horizontal and opted out of a shower so I could climb into bed. 

Probably a bad idea. I was so dirty. 

I had god only knows what in my hair, I was sweaty, covered in booze and neon paint and I looked worse than I've looked in a loooong time. But when Eric got back from his shower none of that dirtiness stopped him from jumping right into bed with me. At first, respecting the post rave exhaustion, he just cuddled and rubbed my back. Once I'd slept a while we began to play. 

No sex but a lot of fun. 

In the morning we realized that, having left his bike in town we had no trans so Eric starts to text his nearby friends to see if anyone will give us a ride. And we're snuggling and I can see him texting and I notice that he's talking to someone named Skip.

Yup.

Skip.

My Skipper.

And here Eric is... asking him to come pick us up. So I mention that maybe, just maybe, that's not the greatest idea. Because I know him.

In the biblical sense.

And this it hits me. This is Eric. This is Skipper's best friend Eric. Who Skip has told me about in detail. HIS BEST FRIEND. So of course immediately Eric tells Skip that he's with me.

Radio Silence.

Apparently Skipper didn't want to sleep with me anymore... but he also didn't want his friends to either...

Oops.

I mean... what's the protocol for something like this? What does whore etiquette dictate for accidental best friend seducing?

The good news is that being Eskimo buddies with Skip doesn't seem to bother Eric.
We ended up calling a cab and I got redressed in my neon green dress, looked at myself in the mirror and tried, in vain, to pull myself together into some semblance of normalcy. Because I looked like shit. On top of the previous nights mess I now had bed head and some serious pillow marks.

Plus you know how after you've raged you wake up with everything looking different. Like your eyes are dull and your skin is gross looking and you smell like death.

Yeah.

That.

So I threw on some emergency makeup, tried to tame my hair into a bun and walked out in a slutty slutty rave outfit.

Neon Walk Of Shame.

When I stopped to get cash out it was mortifying. I'm dressed like a fucking highlighter and everybody is staring at me. A bright light of shame. Or game. Either one.

Anyways, I think it might have been worth the shame because I found a fun playmate for, hopefully, the rest of the summer. I thought that, like most boys, he would just sort of disappear. That once I was out of sight I'd be out his thoughts too. But no. It's Sunday and ever since I left his side yesterday I've had a constant stream of lovely messages from him and he has been quite convincing in trying me to come over. I mean he promised me a back massage! Thats some serious willpower kryptonite. But luckily for my dignity I have no trans. I'm trying to make him work for it.

Wish me luck, lovelies.

xxKK

ON MAKING OUT WITH MITCH

So last week we learned about Jay, my work husband and one time playmate.

This week lets talk about Mitch.

His boss.

So remember how I said I try not to do anything blog worthy at my job? Oops. I fucked up.
Twice.
First with Jay and then with Mitch.

See the night after I hooked up with Jay I decided to hang out with the crew again. Now technically I had finished my internship and no longer was a member of the company but I was still seeing them pretty frequently.

Anyways.

Jay, Mitch, myself and two other employees decide to go out for Korean munchies and drinks after work the day after Jay and I hooked up. It starts out as just a few drinks and food and fun and all that goodness. Then the suggestion of karaoke comes up.

In case you didn't know already... I love Karaoke. LOVE.
The last time I went to Karaoke with this crew of characters we got so wasted that Jay took off his shirt and effectively molested our head of HR.

Clearly this is an experience we all need to repeat.

So we roll down to K Town for some good ol' fashioned singing fun. Belt out a few jams. Then everyone decides to pack in ti pretty early. Jay ditches for home the first and then everyone sort of peters off.

Then it's just Mitch and I.

Which is sort of weird because Mitch, being one of the bosses at the company, is not really someone I ever spent alone time with.

As the only one who doesn't have a job to get to in the morning I was expecting to have to go home early but was more than happy to oblige when Mitch suggested we get another drink.

Now heres a little background on Mitch.

Mitch is a sexy, 30 something, who dresses wonderfully, is ridiculously sweet but still can joke like a bro.
Oh and he's married with two beautiful children.

So we go to a bar and order a pair of beers and Mitch starts to open up. Like a lot. About how horrible his marriage is and how his wife doesn't love him and I'm like... I'm 22... how do I help a grown man with his grown up problems?

So we nurse our beers for about an hour and I try to help him with some super deep and drunk advice.

We decide we've been nursing our, not yet finished, beers for long enough and he offers to drive me home.

Who am I to turn down a free ride, right?

So we walk towards Mitch's car and right before we get to the parking lot he pulls me aside and, in the cutest way ever asks if he can kiss me.

Now I know what you're thinking. He's married! And that is a huge dealbreaker for me. It always has been. But he had just bared his tortured little soul and he asked so nicely and he's so sexy and I was so drunk.

So I said yes.

Pure sidewalk makin' out.

It was great. We then pull apart and head to get his car. Get this... he opens the door for me. Like... for real. He seems almost flabbergasted that I would even presume to open my own door.

Oh my god its a fucking Gentleman. I thought these had gone extinct!

I get in the car and Mitch pulls out of the car park annnnnd into a parking spot.

20 more make out minutes. He throws on some sweet jams and we're talking and kissing and if you forget about the wife and kids it's actually really nice. But you can't really forget about the wife since she calls him and asks where he's sobering up. Not exactly a mood maker.

Anyways. Mitch drives me home. Pulls over to let me out annnnnd more make out.

And he is just laying on the compliments and is acting so cute and he's asking if he's okay at kissing and I feel like I'm back in high school and teaching boys how to kiss. And usually a man needing validation in his skills is a turn off... like... don't be so needy. Don't fish for compliments. I want a man to be so self assured and confident that he doesn't need me to tell him how great he is.

But I'll make an exception in this case. Because he was so damn cute about it.

So we kiss and confer for a little while but then it's 3 am and where did the time go? He walks me to my door, more kisses and then leaves. And I'm like... what the fuck just happened?...

Oh My God.

Who am I and where did Kitty Kat go?

ugh.

xxKK

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 3)

(I'm so sorry that it's taken me almost a month to post part 3 but I'm like... really busy...


and ashamed)


Okay... so where did we leave off?..

Oh that's right. EMT disappoints and then departs.
Everything I want in a man and more...

(I really hope you read the sarcasm in that)

Anyways. Come sunday and I am not sure if the ground has turned to marshmellow or if the world is spinning extra fast but walking is not my friend. In fact general co-ordination is defying me. It takes me about 10 minutes to figure out how to put on pants. Get stuck at the zipper and decide to opt for a dress.

You might be wondering what someone in my, obviously impaired, state is doing getting dressed at all. I mean obviously I should be in bed with a banana and a blindfold.

Oh hush you dirty birds... banana to help the hangover (potasium) and blindfold to keep out the light (headache)

But alas, such comforts aren't afforded to this little boozehound. No, instead I force myself into clothes and drag myself uptown to meet the rest of the crew for brunch.
Or as us manhattanites like to call it: a classy excuse for pre-noon drinking.

The only problem with brunching is that any place worth the price of admission usually has an hours long wait. And thus we began our champagne and orange juice gorging long before the eggs benedict came. So I was about half in the bag before breakfast.

Oh lets be honest... I'd fallen through 2 bags into the bottom of a bottle.

I was drunnnnk.

Did I mention that this was also the finals before the superbowl?
So naturally after 3 hours of booze and foodz we decided to go (where else?) to a bar.
A few beers, slurred words and shots later I find this dashing young gentleman who is a medical student. He too takes some shots, we shoot the breeze for a while and yell at jocks on the tv screen.

I do love a man who can yell.

So I decide I need to go to my house and sober up. Funny how the bar is a block from my house. Mick (my new doctor friend) decides he too could use a glass of water and a quieter place to watch the game.
Get to my place.
I go to the bathroom for 1 minute to check my face and push some makeup around on it. I come back and guess what I find...

NAKED MICK.

As in, he has stripped down and pulled the naked man and was sitting on my couch ass naked.

Well shit.

Not much I can do now... so I move his nakedness into my room and join him for rounds 1 and 2.

And they weren't great rounds. Short, fast, over.  And frankly any man who has the balls to pull the naked man should make sure he has the cock to match them. And Mick didn't have the dick.
Sad times.
Anyways.

I know what you're thinking... 3 days of drinking, two sex buddies. How more unclassy can this be?

OH... let me tell you.

I'm lying there naked and Mick is talking to me and letting his hands wander and like.. whatever. Because I'm over it but I'm also drunk and not about to turn down extra fun. And his hands move lower and it's sort of sexy and then he prods me. Yeah. There. And not in a sexy way. And then he's like... staring at my vag and I'm like... excuse me? Go away. And he's like (I fuck you not) "Babe, it's okay, I'm a doctor"

WHAT??

Are you trying to give me a subtle vag exam?? Are you my OBGYN? Did I just get tricked into a pap smear? NO FUCKING WAY.

I then have a minor freak out because, lets face it, the fastest way to kill the mood is to go from play time to playing doctor.

So by this point, as far as I'm concerned the night is over. I'm tired, I'm annoyed, I want him to leave and I want to finally sleep off my shame.
But my girls NP and shiv call and they're out so I drag my ass back into clothing to go meet them.

Goodbye Mick.

Nope.

Mick wants to come.

So he jumps in a cab with me and we go meet my friends. Such a weird situation. The random guy I just banged (and then had try to medically examine me) playing pool with me, Shiv and Shiv's high school boyfriend Vesty.

And like.. Mick isn't bad looking. In fact he's pretty cute. Could use some fashion tips and maybe a little bit of proactiv but he's cute. But he also just pulled a weird med student thing on me and I dunno. I'm  drunk and it's weird.

Finally we call it a night and Mick and I split a cab home. I got him number  (yeah... haven't called that hot mess) and I slept on a pile of towels to avoid the bed of sin that I'd created.

The next day at work I looked as bad as I felt and I'm pretty sure I was oozing vodka but after hiding my face all day and managing not to vomit I felt like I'd paid the price for having such a bender.

It wasn't my finest hour but it probably won't be my messiest either.

and now it's time for bed.

xxKK

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 2)

Rolled out of bed, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on some sunglasses and called Shiv to get food.

Find out the silly nut has left her debit card at the bar we were at last night so we change the plans oh so slightly.
We make one pit stop instead of two so that we can eat and retrieve her DC at the same time. This does call for a change of clothing since the bartenders had already seen my outfit from the night before.

Luckily I was still drunk from the night before so I dressed myself rather quickly and rather like a slutty 80s prom queen might.

Black Mesh.
White Lace.
Fuchia Leather Gloves.
Leggings.
Grey Blazer.
Bra.

Thats about it.

So you understand why I had to text Shiv asking her to hurry the hell up because standing on the corner waiting for her I looked like $5 bucks would buy you a back-to-the-future worth ride.

Obviously I looked awesome.

And I even patted myself on the back and thought, "good job, Kitty, on picking an outfit that can double as a traditional walk of shame worthy get-up for the next day"

Anywhoo. We go to the bar. Sure enough one of the bartenders from the night is on and between the fucking glorious burger I had (medium rare, swiss cheese, mushrooms, mayo and bacon) and the rounds of free shots they decided to give up (at 2pm, which was like our 10am) we learned that the karaoke that I had so fiercely been decking out the night before is actually recorded. And the bartenders watch it.

All the time.

And they have a highlights reel.

Yes. I'm on it.

They would not confirm or deny it but I'm pretty sure the night I fell off the stage and tore all my ligament is on that tape.

So.. after a few beers, shots and great food we went on our merry way... to Shiv's bar...

My god that fucking burger was delicious. I wish I hadn't talked about it... I'm so hungry now.

ONWARDS.

We get to Shivs bar. More beer. More shots. I think more snacks but I honestly couldn't attest to that fact. I start removing "unnecessary" articles of clothing until eventually I'm in a bra, mesh dress and heels.
Make new friends, harass old ones, drunkenly text people (it's sort of my thing) smoke a bowl in the basement and generally just act stupid.

After a few hours of this general behavior I realize that it's my friend Mina's half birthday party so I jump in a cab, haul my drunk ass downtown. See this girl who is almost as wasted as I am. Hit on everything that moves from gay men to coats draped over chairs. Have a drink more and then decide that it's time to put myself to bed. Say goodbye to all my new friends and get in a cab.


And go back to the bar.


I don't know when in that cab I made the decision not to go home but I found myself back at the bar with a beer in my hand before I could say "Hell's Kitchen please."

Sitting at the bar. Scoping the talent. Now I will say this about Shiv's bar... it is fun, the food is great and I love the staff.

But it's not great for picking up men.

However I saw this one guy who had a dangerous edge to him. Eminem with a heart of gold and khaki cargo pants.
I target him. See him, choose him, snipe him.

He takes the bait (which was pretty much a drunken smile and slight nod) and approaches me. Buys me a drink - I think I'm in love. He reveals that he is an EMT. Thus I shall name him EMT Guy because I cannot with any certainty say I learned his name. Or anything helpful to giving him a better nickname.

So me and EMT guy are talking and I'm so far wasted by this point that he could have probably been a lamp post and I would have taken him home. So when he pointed out that he didn't have a place to stay and was just waiting for his shift in a few hours I was like "funny story, I do have a place to stay. You could stay there too if by stay there you mean get naked and then leave when I'm done with you."

He said yes.
We got in a cab and headed home.

Wish I'd stuck with the lamp post...

We get home and he gets naked as promise and underneath the clothes lie a disappointing body. A beerbelly where muscles were promises, really horrible and tasteless tattoos and a very small... piece.

God EMT Guy! Why you no deliver on your promises!

Well by the time were both naked enough to see this it was too late to back out so we had some quick, not very good sex and then he started rambling about how he'd love to stay but he just HAD to go to work... unless I want him to call in sick?

No.

No I do not.

Put your clothes on and get out of my house so I can fall asleep and hope that the booze I've soaked my brain in erases all memory of you.

So EMT Guy leaves, I fall asleep. The memories don't disappear but I do wake up starving, thirsty and still drunk.

And thus begins part 3...

THE WEEKEND THAT WAS (PART 1)

So...

About how it feels like it's been AGES since I last posted.

I'd like to blame it on how awesome the past few weeks have been, on how fucking busy I am raging my face off but it is just so much more shameful than that.

It's really just been shame holding me back.

It all started one fateful thursday... I woke up so sick and had to call out of work. (Clearly this is not the exciting part of the story) and I spent my day sleeping, sleeping, sleeping and drinking soup.

Then Friday came by and I was going to head to work but I still felt a little off and my boss didnt want me contaminating the rest of the office so he told me to stay home. Well after sleeping from 8am till 4pm I woke up feeling awesome, rested and HUNGRY.

So I went to visit Shiv at her work place to eat the most amazing mushroom burger.

Seriously. The burger is taste bud orgasmic.

So since she works at a bar my food obviously came with a couple of beers. That led us down the road of debauchery and we ended up heading to our favorite neighborhood bar. Where I did many many shots. So many free shots of jager. So many... *shudder*

And after we insured everyone was so drunk that they were passing out, crying or pulling irish goodbyes I decided to start singing some glorious Karaoke.

Which, while I'm singing, makes me feel like a rockstar. And when I look back makes me want to kill myself.

The balance of minimal food, maximum medication and more booze than a camel could hold made for some SLOPPY actions and piss poor decisions but I managed to keep a teeny slice of dignity and walk myself home without losing any belongings, shoes or underwear. Got into my apartment after only 14 minutes of fighting the keys and went to sleep ass naked on top of a pile of my clothes.

Yup, shoes too.

So far it's sounding pretty tame, right?

Just a normal friday night...

I woke up at 1pm the next "morning" and rolled over, pulled on the clothes I'd worn the night before, threw on sunglasses and called Shiv to get get food.

And that's where Part Two began....

Trust me... there's too much shame in this story for it to be contained in one post.

xxKK

IT'S A WIN FOR THE G-MEN

First off, I hate that the Giants call themselves "G-Men"

What is this? A chinatown X-Men knockoff?
Like... would you rather be a group of normal guys...
OR would you want to be the mighty powerful GIANTS?

Come on.

It's not rocket science.

Anyways.

As per normal I was looking for a good reason to party and get waaaasted (but who really needs a reason, right?)
And the Superbowl seemed like a pretty fucking good reason.

I mean, it's hot guys in spandex, funny commercials, excitement that only sports can bring and everybody needs a place to watch it!

Hell I already have the TV and the couch space. I bought a case of beer and a vegetable plate and that was the end of my party prep. Pretty fucking sweet.
And I invited peeps from school, from work, from life. All of my favorite people!

And they came!

I'm so used to being blown off that I didn't actually expect people to show up. But 95% of the people I invited showed up. Plus a couple spares. And people watched the game and laughed at the commercials and screamed at the refs and drank anytime there was a touchdown, a field goal, a penalty, a time out, an injury, a mention of Peyton Manning, or of Madonna, whenever a beer commercial was on and pretty much anytime anything at all was happening.

There was beer pong and 5 fingers and so so so many snacks.

Noone threw up in my bathtub or got wine on my ceiling or broke a glass or almost burned down the house or started a fight or even had to crash because they were too drunk for feet.

So prettttty much it was the most successful party I've ever thrown.

Redo this weekend? Maaaaybe...

Help me think of an excuse to party and this time maybe I'll document the festivities so I can share photos.

xxKK

p.s. there was no left over beer at the end of the night but there were two tubs of guacamole, half the veggie plate and so many pigs in a blanket. Dinner anyone? Don't mind if I do...

Night.