I am hella bored, bros. Judging by the news, I should also be fearing for my life, but really I just want to be able to leave my street so I can go to my fucking office. And maybe later get some of those cream-filled donuts from Taco Bell.
But no. I am forced to sit here and read and listen to everyone talking about how they had a sanctioned snow day. Not us. There is no rest for the home services industry! But, alas, I can't make it down my street without the help of neighbors pushing from behind and shoveling in front so I decided it was best to just kick it at the crib. Shane is at work even though he's the Vice President of his company, so I guess I shouldn't be bitching.
I suppose I should take this time to reflect on all the funnies happening lately. The DACers have fully adopted me (even though I will most likely only become a member of the Detroit Athletic Club by marriage because it costs a fortune, and I already get to attend all the events anyhoo). Enough so that they are begging me to go on their damn ski trip even though I refuse to ski and said I won't leave the pub the entire time. They all feel this is completely acceptable and almost encouraged. Therefore, I'm definitely considering it.
The most sparkly and fur-enveloped member of the DACers is BMO. She is fabulous. I'm in love with her. She's like a human version of my all time idol, Miss Piggy; opulent, indulgent, fierce, beautiful - and my 6 year old self is so fucking geeked out to be friends with her I almost can't stand it. We have already had several mini adventures together like running down Grosse Pointe Blvd in formal dresses during a rain storm, and she feels ski trip will really set things on another level. Probably because they stay in a giant "ski mansion" and she takes a bath every year in champagne. This is real. She gets into a bathtub of champs and kicks it for a while. She said I am invited to join this time if I agree to go. I would probably stick with the hot tub, but you never know after a few glasses of goose what I'm capable of.
Which brings me to the next funny. On NYE, we all agreed to do a "chill night" at this "chill bar" that totally worked out until about 1am when I went to retrieve a card from the bar and they told me they "didn't have it". While I waited and demanded someone straighten shit out, I watched this 24ish year old asswipe with an ironic mustache verbally torturing some girl. It was utterly ridiculous and reminded me of everything completely despicable about the Millenials. Anyway, long story short, I ordered 2 ice waters and informed this poor female that one was hers to throw in his face. She looked at me sheepishly, with tears in her eyes saying "I don't think I can, will you too?" and I said "Honey, this isn't my fight, but you let that fly right for that 'stache because you have earned it" and juuuust as I was saying that and taking a drink of mine at the same time, he said something so damn vile to her I ended up turning around and slowly streaming a fountain of water onto his face from my straw. He was SO ridiculous, he was just trying to scrape the water off his face while still yelling at this girl as if he didn't understand where it was coming from. By the time my stream had diminished, girl had found her inner Beyonce' and honey TOSSED that glass of water directly into his mug. It was glorious. I mean, ice cubes bounced off this dude. I high fived her and walked away as all the men in our group held off the men in their group and we bounced laughing all the way. Now, normally, I would wake up the next morning after an incident like this (tossing vodka on the $6000 rug because I was mad, cough cough) and feel very guilty and ashamed. I woke up feeling completely ok with it. No girl ever deserves to be talked to that way. And certainly not by a child with a mustache. Just, no. Another girl in our group saw him drop his phone and smashed it into the floor with her stiletto . Looks like he won't be talking to anyone for a while. Sorry we're not sorry, dick.
So, come to find out, this story was told aloud by my surgeon friend TCQ the next day over a group lunch. Which THEN parlayed into everyone else saying they refused to tell their stories because none were that dramatic/amazing. THEN I was forced to stand up and tell the story yet again at brunch this past Saturday. These people delighted in my defense of poor girl with a mouth fountain. Made me feel like a hero. But let's hope that's the only time in 2014 I have to spit in a dude's face.
Now, the biggest fan of said water crusade is Charlie. Charlie is a wonderful cherub man I have actually known for over a year now and I just adore him. He's one of those Manhattan-drinking, charcuterie-plate-making, Downtown-swank-living, Red Wings enthusiasts that you can't help but love. HE told me I actually win best NYE person ever in his book which prompted me to give a speech thanking my Mother, Father, Jesus and vodka. It was moving to say the least. Anyway, this man has organized an event to go see FUCKING MONSTER TRUCKS at Ford Field on Saturday. Yes. Monster Jam. You fucking know it. BMO is attempting to refuse to go as she is too shi shi for this type of ridiculous shit, but I informed her I would think about the ski trip if she attends. I don't believe that's fair as ski trip is expensive and Monster Jam is like twelve bones, but whatever. I'm a team player.
Also, Shane finally forced me to watch Gay of Thrones on Funny or Die and I laughed so hard I gagged. He's always right about what I will and will not laugh at.
So....you know. Just living life, getting it, loving every second! Well, accept for all this effing snow. I think I'm going to brave it now for those Taco Bell donut things....them shits are goooooood.
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