Okay, I'm really, really, really drunk.
Here's what happened:
Adam was invited to the fucking Crystal Ball party, and I was all so? Can't you bring someone? And he was all, yeah, I want to bring my pseudo-boyfriend. And I was all, FINE, GO PARTY WITH LENNY KRAVITZ, SEE IF I CARE, I DON'T EVEN LIKE HIM, HIS MUSIC SUCKS AND HE'S GAY AND HIS MOM WAS A MILLION TIMES COOLER THAN HE COULD EVER HOPE TO BE AND HE'S UGLY AND WHILE HIS MOTHER MAY BE DEAD, SHE STILL DRESSES HIM FUNNY. I don't begrudge him now. He's a fucking circuit boy, he needs his sex and dancing, and I would've hated it.
So then I went to this random drag king's party. I didn't want to go to Sexcelia's, because sometimes she makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean, she's so much more feminine than I am, and she has a dick, right? And it's to be expected, because I only shave and wear makeup and dress like a girl when I feel like it, which is maybe six times a year. I'm not a real drag king. I don't bind my breasts. I wear eyeshadow and lipstick and leather pants and a shirt showcasing my titties with my fake facial hair. Eh.
Anyhow, I was dressed real slutty. I had a cute little dress, and I shaved everything for the first time in eight months (I saved my arm pit hair so I could make more realistic facial hair), and my ass looked really hot in this dress, and my cleavage was practically up to my neck. I programmed a lot of phone numbers into my cell phone. I don't recognize any of the names because at this point I was chugging Schlitz, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and Piel's. The host/ess had all three in giant bins packed with ice. Eventually I got oral sex from a girl. I know she gave me a number, but I don't remember her name, and I don't know the best way to go around finding out who she was. She was really hot, and I almost never go out, and when I do, I never get fucking phone numbers because I'm inhibited. But, you know, BOOZE. So what do I do? Call up all of the new phone numbers I don't really remember getting saying, "Hi, we met at Chan's party, did you eat my pussy?" For some reason, I don't think that will go over well.
I'm still sort of drunk, because I passed out at the party and got a friend drove me home. I was really hungover, so I decided to start drinking again. I watched the Insomniac marathon TiVo had planned for me and played a drinking game wherein I chugged every time Dave Attell took a drink. I'm drinking coffee now because I feel like I'm going to barf.
My New Year's resolution is to never drink again.
Wait, that's not going to happen. My New Year's resolution is to never drink excessively.
Fuck.
I'm editing this to add that this took forever to write because I keep making typographical errors. I'm anal like that. And I read over what I wrote and realized that I wrote that I went to a random drag queen's party. I so did not. I went to a random drag king's party.
Here's what happened:
Adam was invited to the fucking Crystal Ball party, and I was all so? Can't you bring someone? And he was all, yeah, I want to bring my pseudo-boyfriend. And I was all, FINE, GO PARTY WITH LENNY KRAVITZ, SEE IF I CARE, I DON'T EVEN LIKE HIM, HIS MUSIC SUCKS AND HE'S GAY AND HIS MOM WAS A MILLION TIMES COOLER THAN HE COULD EVER HOPE TO BE AND HE'S UGLY AND WHILE HIS MOTHER MAY BE DEAD, SHE STILL DRESSES HIM FUNNY. I don't begrudge him now. He's a fucking circuit boy, he needs his sex and dancing, and I would've hated it.
So then I went to this random drag king's party. I didn't want to go to Sexcelia's, because sometimes she makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean, she's so much more feminine than I am, and she has a dick, right? And it's to be expected, because I only shave and wear makeup and dress like a girl when I feel like it, which is maybe six times a year. I'm not a real drag king. I don't bind my breasts. I wear eyeshadow and lipstick and leather pants and a shirt showcasing my titties with my fake facial hair. Eh.
Anyhow, I was dressed real slutty. I had a cute little dress, and I shaved everything for the first time in eight months (I saved my arm pit hair so I could make more realistic facial hair), and my ass looked really hot in this dress, and my cleavage was practically up to my neck. I programmed a lot of phone numbers into my cell phone. I don't recognize any of the names because at this point I was chugging Schlitz, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and Piel's. The host/ess had all three in giant bins packed with ice. Eventually I got oral sex from a girl. I know she gave me a number, but I don't remember her name, and I don't know the best way to go around finding out who she was. She was really hot, and I almost never go out, and when I do, I never get fucking phone numbers because I'm inhibited. But, you know, BOOZE. So what do I do? Call up all of the new phone numbers I don't really remember getting saying, "Hi, we met at Chan's party, did you eat my pussy?" For some reason, I don't think that will go over well.
I'm still sort of drunk, because I passed out at the party and got a friend drove me home. I was really hungover, so I decided to start drinking again. I watched the Insomniac marathon TiVo had planned for me and played a drinking game wherein I chugged every time Dave Attell took a drink. I'm drinking coffee now because I feel like I'm going to barf.
My New Year's resolution is to never drink again.
Wait, that's not going to happen. My New Year's resolution is to never drink excessively.
Fuck.
I'm editing this to add that this took forever to write because I keep making typographical errors. I'm anal like that. And I read over what I wrote and realized that I wrote that I went to a random drag queen's party. I so did not. I went to a random drag king's party.
*searches for hangover omelettes*