Oxymorons & Hangovers

Expressions

Yesterday, I had my own personal meltdown of sorts. I put my head in my hands and pulled my hair and grinded my teeth and text my best friend the details of my financial shithole. Then I bucked up and went to a comedy show with some friends I don’t see enough of. Comedy venues have replaced dive bars in my social life. Some people get excited to say, “I’m on the list.” I feel like a jackass. I try to keep my voice down every time. Never fails, “EXCUSE ME?” into the megawatt unnecessary microphone behind the bullet proof glass.
So that was fun. And Dane Cook came again. There were some obnoxious, unhappy spectators that resulted in a very heated confrontation which Dane handled mighty well, until the trio was escorted out. I don’t understand spreading misery in a place where people came to laugh. Don’t mess with my vibe, cousinfucker.

It’s been about a month and a half in the new place. We still don’t have decent window coverings or a hold on the jungle of a yard, but its home and I’m very happy there. I just wonder what the neighbors think when we’re yelling all the way across our little abode with all the windows open, “Maybe the stripper is your baby daddy.”

Last weekend was roomie’s twenty-eighth birthday. It was held at my parent’s house, where there’s more room, less weeds, and a pool. Among a couple dozen lesbians and enough booze to sink a thousand lushes, enter stage left, a blonde stripper, as requested. She did things that made me question her agency and their perimeters. The cops were called because the neighbors are and always will be assholes. But the next day, when they shot fireworks under trees and power lines and INTO MY BACKYARD AT REE’S HEAD while I fretted about my parent’s roof going up in flames, they were the assholes. So I called it even. And I called the cops.

Angel stadium put on a most excellent firework show on the fourth. All fireworks are most excellent, but this was top notch. From our seats, the 57 freeway was clearly visible and at least twenty cars had pulled off the shoulder, hazards flashing, to watch the show. I don’t know why, but that was my favorite part.

Something I’ve yet to mention though it’s definitely worthy: As of three weeks ago, I have a response if anyone ever asks me about the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
During the early evening ascent on an LA bound flight from San Francisco, the city was all twinkly below and the fog and clouds were all smooth and soft ahead. After a few minutes, the plane was on top of a thin layer of clouds, like stretched cotton, showing just enough of the city below to make it look like a mantel display of architecture and glow. The sky above was clear and it gave the feeling of being on top of a clear surface, seeing the tiny, quiet city underneath. Not to mention the early twilight colors but I’ve already butchered this totally perfect picture in my mind by trying to put words on it. You know me, mucking shit up with words all the time.

My weekday mornings are always bitchy. I cut it too close on time and I get snappy and impatient and just become a total bitch on a PMS binge. I know this. I don’t like this about myself. This morning while trying to rouse Kiddo, swaddled in her super mega oversize night shirt, I was getting more and more peeved as she squirmed further and further away and made little grunting leave-me-alone noises. As my lips pursed and teeth settled into a good clench, she flips her entire body over in a high energy 180, suddenly awake. “Is today Friday?! I’m going to the zoo with my school! I need quarters and a blue shirt!” Fuckin’ A, if anything is going to break my morning BF; it’s an ecstatic child I like to call mine.

-Pretty Lush

Home away from home

I just stopped in to blow the dust off the place. While I was frolicking about without internet/in San Francisco, I wanted to have my girl Kristine post for me with the topic: funniest/weirdest shit that ever went down with Pretty Lush. She may or may not have told the story that involved an abandoned factory and lady officer, preceding the Tool show… or the one about the donkey… or even the one about the almost bloodshed in Santa Barbara that one time. It’s too bad I just had this idea two minutes ago.

So I survived San Francisco and all I got was syphilis. Nah, I’m clean enough but sore as a motherfucker from all the abuse I took being a tourist. SF is a lot like LA… with more aggressive homeless folk and steeper hills. And waaay better architecture. Luckily I chopped a huge percentage of my hair off before we boarded the plane because it was fucking windy. In typical Lush fashion I left every possible confirmation possible at home. Flight, shuttle, hotel reservations and Alcatraz tickets… not to mention all the addresses and free entry passes to a dozen strip clubs.

I digress.

There was alcohol and good food and we even danced for a minute. Alcatraz was incredible and very worth checking out. Chinatown was scary as shit at night. The wharf is a stinky place for someone who doesn’t like seafood, but it’ll grow on you if you spend long enough in a charming little restaurant and drink enough locally brewed ale. There was a dozen bus rides and one trolley stint, where we, yes, hung off the side like tourist. “…like a Reuses monkey.” (Reeses? Google didn’t help me much on spelling that breed.) There was a whole situation in a stairwell that involved security that we won’t get into. I need to save some dignity for the weekend. There was incredible Italian food that went way outside my picky eating box, sake bombs, and one very incredible turkey sandwich. There was… a lot. A gal approached me in a bar, grabbed me by the lapel of my peacoat and said very seriously, “You’re extremely chivalrous and I’ll never forget it.” I had never seen her in my life.

The city was fucking fabulous. I want to exhaust myself there once a year, every year, doing something different every time until the thought of the bay area makes me puke Anchor Steam. Ree and I still refer to our fancy hotel as ‘home’ and while I want to check out every single thing that ever existed and not do too many things twice, I’d stay there again and again. Purple carpet, people. I’m just sayin’.

Kiddo lost both front teeth and holy hell, the story about the ‘tire thwing that holds three people’ is absolutely hilarious. There is no cute like missing front teeth cute. I’m confident I could fit my shoe through the gap. I even want her to get professional pictures taken soon. By kindergarten school picture time, they could be growing in! I shudder at the thought of kindergarten. I have a BABY not a CHILD. Public school cannot take that away from me.

My phone is out of control vibrating. I want to throw it through a brick wall. This is what happens when you’re semi-in charge of a birthday party. Happening tonight. That I have no supplies for.

I love you.

-Pretty Lush

This is growing up

Kiddo yanked out a prominent front tooth the other night and graduated from preschool last Friday. Each day she’ll find one more way to show me she’s all growns up and all growns up and yet I still grasp for chubby baby thighs that are turning into stickly stork legs. Can someone please send me their baby before I go out and make one?

My cell phone and debit card have finally been replaced from their short circuiting/going missing expeditions. I hate being so dependent but damn, I was really losing it for a while there. And since I can’t wrap my brain around the concept of cash, my sugar momma/roommate had to give me gas money and help me out with odds and ends. I think if I asked nicely, she’d hold my head on my neck so I didn’t lose it or trade it in for alcohol.

Last Thursday night, Adam Richmond was at the Improv again. When I asked my mom to watched Kiddo, she asked where I was going, followed by, “Why do I even ask?” I suppose we do see a lot of comedy, but it is definitely cheaper and sometimes more fun than going to shows (live music) which is pretty much all I’ve done socially over the last few years. Not to mention the laughter keeps me off the anti-depressants. (Ay, but not for long. Things are iffy ‘round these parts.) Seeing and getting to know regular comedians (and spectators) are rewarding and more personal than watching egotistic guitar players sway around and laugh off uncool fans. Not all, but ya know. Just sayin’. I’ve yet to meet a comedian too flattered by his/her own self that they can’t share a beer afterwards. So anyhow. There was mention of a special guest, wee-hoo, and then friggin’ DANE COOK comes on stage. And he was far filthier than what I know from his CDs, which was oh-so-pleasant. I brought my beautiful glowy best friend Kristine, all bumped out with my niece up in her oven. SO EXCITING. THERE IS BABY IN FUTURE.

The weekend was hot and miserable. Plans to head out to San Fernando Valley were curbed when we learned that they were experiencing black outs and thus no AC. I decided to keep my skin on and stayed home. Relaxed by the pool at my parents, did some laundry and was ultimately lame with a tan.

I miss regular updates. And don’t lie, so do you. Love.

-Pretty Lush

Reactivating the twitches

I'm not writing as much, to your relief. (Except for the one stalker I know of. She is not relieved. She is pining for me, people.) Because moving and settling has made me redundant and I say the same things every day.

Officially, there is a bed in a my room and a blind in my window. It is now sexually functional and I consider myself done moving. The rest will be considered repairs and upgrades. Stay tuned.

Last night, Kiddo and I are settling in to bed and I'm fighting this new blind that won't go up so I can shut the window. (No complaints, that gorgeous bitch was free.) Suddenly from the faux wood depths emerges the creepiest looking spider. Que full blown panic mode. I'm not so much scared of bugs as I am sickened of them. My skin crawls and I twitch in their presence. Even writing this is making me itch like I'm growing yeast. (ohmygod, ew) Kiddo starts giving me this panicked lecture, wherein she's attempting to be calm because I cannot stomach her stage five freak outs and she knows this. "IT'S OKAY MOM, IT'S JUST A SPIDER AND SPIDERS DON'T HURT YOU MY DADDY SAID THAT DADDY LONG LEGS DON'T HURT YOU EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE REALLY BIG AND MOM I'M BACKING UP NOW - IT'S MOVING!!!" I slowly slide the mattress away from the wall to avoid spidey guts in my sleeping space and grab a shoe I never wear. (Knowing there are bug guts on my shoes makes them unwearable for a period of time, and no I won't clean them.) So I'm standing on the bed, squatting down low so I can reach the thing/jump off the bed fast and Kiddo is not panicking behind me. "Just get him real hard, Mom. Make sure you get him." And I'm deep breathing and counting it off and 1-2-3 WHACK on my blinds, spidey crumbled onto the floor. VICTORY, YOU EIGHT LEGGED FREAK BITCH.

Then I twitched all night long.

I finished The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon in two days, mostly at work, because sometimes with books, I'm all, godspeed! It was hard to get through but mostly enjoyable. I get wet to finish/start new books, I swear.

Funniest joke today, possibly ever, as I am a sucker for this one liner shit: A termite walks into a bar and asks, "Is the bar tender here?" Oh, you don't get it either? So far my mom was the only one. Tender like meat, fool.

Tonight is some amateur comedy thing at the Improv. A friend of a Kim is playing and I hope it's not newb-bad but underappreciated-good, you know?

-Pretty Lush

Last week, Kiddo's little homie, Ace, came and spent the night so his mama could have a night off. I'd about give up a sense for a little man around the house. He was so smart and polite, there's still a dull ache in my ovary section. Kiddo is all about the costume. That night she sported a pink sequined cowboy hat and tried her damndest to get Ace in the pointy witch hat. When he said he wouldn't wear it because he was a pirate, I busted out the old pirate Halloween costumes and let them pretend on into the night. Ace told everyone he was, 'Cap'n Jack Sparrow' and I melted. A lot.

I filled out my official application for my awesome new job. Under special qualifications and skills, I wanted so badly to write: Ninja. It's pathetic having to leave that spot blank so I raked my brain for something I'm good up and came up short.

I'm so in love with Kiddo's new school. They're every little thing that the old school wasn't. But... Friday morning during cereal, Kiddo wrote on a nearby tablet: I will eat my food. Fock you. And the only explanation I can come up with is maybe some Johnny-gone-badboy in class wrote it? Or said it? I know you're looking at me and lifting an eyebrow (like I wish I could) at my sailor's tendencies like rum and expletives, but in five-plus years the only time Kiddo has ever picked up a word from me or anyone else was the time she said, BITCH! at two-and-a-half years old. Trust me when I tell you, I squashed that before she got the -ch out. Not once has she said anything even remotely close to that and certainly never broached an F-bomb. I calmy interrogated her but the lip tremble told me all I needed to know. She knew it was bad and I can guarentee it won't happen again. Not like she would give me any info anyway. She tried to deny even writing it but the little hand script and the I will statement were dead giveaways. (Always: I will give this to my mom. I will take my mom to the beach. I will do my work. etc)

My weekend was productive. Cleaning, hanging more shit on blank walls, oil change, etc. There was a delicious Sunday champagne brunch and a couple movies (Varsity Blues, Set It Off, The Sweetest Thing).

I thought a little more about my life's to-do/see/learn list and I want to add: Shoot a gun. And go to Mardi Gras.

Most of this was written Friday. I need to go gather the remnants of my mind.

-Pretty Lush

Mini pomp & circumstance

These weekdays are running into each other. Everything is a little blurry and I'm not even hungover. I work, cook/clean, rearrange and put away, knock out. It's redundant but there's thismuch more progress every day and so I regain bits of sanity. My room got an overhaul last night with Ree's help and it's almost a functional place. The walls are still blindingly white though. At one point we were holding my quadrillion pound TV and laughing so hard that we almost dropped it. Ree asked, "What's IN this thing?" I, ever bright, said, "It's full of titanium." And she corrected, "Uh, that would make it lighter." She metal-skooled me, that bitch.

Kiddo is talking and exclaiming about her new house! and new school! all the time, so I'm almost positive that this tremendously difficult five-year-old life thing isn't so bad for her right now. She's been eating really good and I think we're on the verge of another growth spurt (she's very tall for her age) and there are loose front teeth. I told her if she only lost one of them, I would punch the other out. She recoiled so violently with a look that said, 'Are you effin' kidding me?' that I immediately threw in, 'Just kidding, baby! Just kidding!' Really, by now, the way her personality has developed and been influenced by me and my family, I thought she'd just raise an eyebrow and dare me. Or throw the line she's always saying, "Oh come on, Mom."

The new school has a class of graduates, moving from preschool to kindergarten. They all had pictures on the wall in their cap and gown and when I picked her up yesterday I was excited to see that they'd already included her:

Those squinty smiles don't show off her blue eyes, but who am I to complain? MY LITTLE GRADUATE! 

All week Threadless.com is having their $10 sale. If I wasn't so broke I'd be on that. My favorite shirts are from there and I love some of the new designs.

  

Oh yeah &... I quit my job. My comfortable little position at the office... all snug and contured, the way I like, the way I know. I put in my two weeks. I start at the new place on June 16th.

-Pretty Lush 

New newness

Regarding my last posts of wannas and wishes, my friend doctashock of The Alternakids says, "There ain't nothin' to it, but to do it." I say this like a mantra to myself because it's catchy, but also because -- how true. How dare I stand in my own way? It's quite like a Mighty Life List (seen in the side column of Maggie Mason's page) but some of these things are within my reach now, and not a year's pay from now (see: Dublin). Anyone up for lessons with a stick shift?! Materials needed: car with stick shift, you provide. Compensation: whiplash. It's going to rock.

(Note! In the fourth picture on this post, I am successfully lifting one eyebrow! SUCCESS!)

Sometimes (always) I'm the funniest person I know but I have to keep that to myself because I have jokes that are considered, mmmm, how you saaay, 'gentle comedy.' I was sitting back with a beer in my parent's backyard with some folks when someone said they needed a hair cut. I thought to myself, Which one? I had to put my head down, I laughed so hard. I CRACK ME UP.

< Toasting raspberry champagne with friends on our first night. This preceeded poker and really drunk, really silly girl stuff.

The awesome abode is coming along. It has reached maximum capacity for stuff. I don't know where anything is and sections of the place would get me fined by OSHA. (That is, of course, if I had employees. And I think that I should.) My teeny tiny attached bath requires wiggles and bends to get from the shower to the dresser drawer for clothing needs. To hang with us, you must be both flexible and risky. But it is all slowly piecing together and becoming habitable. Having totally exhausted ourselves this weekend, I suggested we set a timer for only one hour after work tonight. When it goes off, we clean no other surface, rearrange no other furniture and put away no other miscellaneous item. I hope that I'm surprised by how much can be accomplished in one hour.

The cable was installed on Saturday morning by a very patient, very kind dude. It requiring rerouting and other cable talk but in the end, we have more channels that I have ever had the privilege of watching. Including NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC. This is more exciting than having the Spice Channel. One of my favorite memories was a weekend spent at a friend's house where we had some late night shenanigans involving Joe Rogan and then spent the entire next day on the couch watching Nat Geo. We ordered in and barely budged or spoke. There is so much fascinating shit. (I'm seeing, in my brief channel surfing, that BBC has some interesting stuff too...)

Speaking of tube - tomorrow night Reality Channel is replaying Last Comic Standing. According to his mass e-mail, Adam Richmond is featured and you would not regret watching that shit. (That part is according to me.) I promise.

Kiddo started at the new school today. I dressed her in a black sailor dress with high top Converse and pigtails. I repeated how beautiful she was on the big day, and reiterated the idea that there were all kinds of new friends to be made and HOW EXCITING, RIGHT? She really didn't need my neurosis. She jumped up and down at the front door, saying, "Mo-oom, can we go to my new school now?" Except I failed at life because I promised I'd give her her favorite Lunchable for the first day and I did no such thing. I was overwhelmed with guilt, and of course, she didn't even remember. I will be driving in excess of one grillion MPH to pick her up and get all the details and hot gossip. If she loves this place, I've done something right. This really is all consuming... I've been thinking about her all day.

It's common knowledge that I don't like little dogs. I do not get their purpose and see no reason to ever be nice to them They'd serve more purpose on a kabob. Don't get me started on chihuahuas. So now I live with one, right? Well he's part Chihuahua, part mutt. In the time that I've known Ree, Rylie has really grown on me but there are times that I wonder what his monetary value would be in a Korean market. (Ree: if you're reading this, I swear I'm kidding! Readers: *shakes head* Ree: I swear!! Readers: *shakes head*) It wasn't until last night when I came home to an empty place with Kiddo, that I realized how much I dig him. He couldn't exactly kill off the intruder that I swear is in the house every time it creaks, but he'd certainly deafen the creep with his barking. And who is going to break in on a gal with a noisy dog? That's like rule number one in the B & E book of codes. Aside from feeling a little safer with him around, he cuddled so sweetly with Kiddo in her bed and she rubbed him down so affectionately that I may have started to like him more than Tigah, her usual (stuffed) cuddle buddy. When Kiddo was promptly knocked out, Rylie was cuddled between my legs and the couch, resting his chin on my leg and I looked at him and thought, oh fuck. It happened. I adore you. When he's all smooshed up on me with love, my heartthing gets all melty for him but DON'T TELL ANYONE.

What's to be said about two noise complaints in two nights? I should bake for my neighbors. (HAHA! Just kidding! I don't hate them!)

-Pretty Lush

Little diversity

Very recently my uncle suffered a massive heart attack. He's currently in a coma on the other side of the country. My dad has flown over to be with his sister (uncle's wife) for the time being. Everyone is waiting patiently for the time that his eyes do more than flutter, and he comes back to being his awesome self. Any and all positives vibes are appreciated.

Yesterday Jeff and I went to the park. I was bitching and moaning about the bugs - they're fucking everywhere - when I noticed over Jeff's shoulder, a man walking his French bulldog. I about lost my mind, retreated into my nine-year-old girl excitement and I think I even clapped. I'm still waiting on word of the adoption application, but I'm not too expectant of a yes. I found some other adoption agenices and some local breeders. I'll have my French one way or another, god dammit.

Carved into a tree at said park:

Love Today

So I did.

Last night was one of productivity. There isn't enough I can do to prepare to move. The major weight on my shoulders is Kiddo's new school. I have to find it. And instead of panicking, I've taken to drinking a lot of Diet Coke and keeping a steady pace. Cleaning, organzing, packing, sorting, listing items/clothes on Ebay, scouring craigslist for necessaries... I canceled my gym membership after work. When Kiddo and I walked into the gym, I heard my name and was greeted by a very sweaty, very tall, very buff guy that intimidated me for a second before I realized he was my cousin. OH HAI. I went to three (!@#$) pet stores looking for feeder fish. I scrubbed Jack's (turtle) tank and let loose ten little grayish gold fish... within minutes, there were five. I prewarned Kiddo that there would be some death going on and she positively cheered him on. Erright then.

With my dad gone and my brother mostly not home, there's four females reigning the house. If we weren't synchronized before, we will be now (minus Kiddo). We all got into my mom's king sized bed and watched Spark of Insanity. Kiddo referenced her 'wife,' which had my sister asking,"You have a wife...?"
"No, Auntie! I'm not even married!"

I snuck off to watch The Ultimate Fighter and saw JEREMY GET HIS FACE KICKED OFF. I was seething over that turd (Jeremy jitsu? Oh, sit down) and couldn't have been happier to watch him flop around like a fish - totally depleated and ready to surrender before BAM KICK TO THE CHIN, LAID OUT SUCKER.

Ahem.

Also it was funny to watch Forrest yell until his voice were merely a girlish squeal.

There's a brilliant red daisy next to my bed from Jeffrey. It smells like happy.

My calendar is so full, giving the impression that I am busy and popular. In reality, I just overbook and am sort of well-liked by a few cool cats.

Tonight: view apartment, all finished with the repairs and looking all gorgeous and eager. Check out at least one school in the area for Kiddo. PFLAG meeting in Long Beach. Friday: satellite office meeting *hic*, Pride pre-party in Long Beach. Saturday: Angels vs. Dodgers @ Angel stadium, more Pride shenanigans. Sunday: steal Kiddo from Dad (approval pending) for Pride parade. And so much more in upcoming weeks, including! Joe! Rogan! Tickets!

-Pretty Lush

Salud, Ma!

For mother's day, I went wine tasting with my Ma, Ree, and her ma. Montage (add your own soundtrack): Driiiiive, CHEERS!, laugh, drink, eat, drink, laugh, drink, music, hug. My phone blew up with happy day texts, some more heartfelt than others that triggered the waterworks up in me noggin. It was the absolute perfect day.
I was the recepient of lots&lots of purple daisies and 10k kisses because my boyfriend likes me. Cheeeese. <3

My aunt (Ma's best friend from high school) threw herself a luau on Saturday night for her birthday. There were palm trees and gaping tiki faces on every flat surface, Mai Tais, and lots of appropriate food. I brought Kiddo, having stolen her away from her weekend with dad. She's a stud in a lei, I must say. There was a ukelele serenade around the fire, beer pong and one fist fight.

Today I registered for an online art class for the summer semester. The on campus classes are almost all four days a week and even for a month, that's just impossible. Having someone else pick up, tend to, feed, bathe and kiss Kiddo goodnight for the majority of the week? I'm adamant about this witto-itto degree, but really. I have priorities. So I'm giving online a whirl. I hear it's easy but some of us are resistant to change and frankly, find it difficult to rely on computers for anything remotely important. Mine WILL crap on me, you mark my words.

Tonight is sex class and our guest speakers are from Condom Revolution. Likely to be free lube and condom samples and many a dumb question, as per usual agenda. Recall that Kim and I have elected to vote the dumbfucks off the island, per se. Something regarding a stupid question came up last week and Kim said, "Hey, at least you're still on the island." Which only we got... and still, probably, only her and I will laugh...  but I like to alienate my dear readers whenever possible. I think we have friends sneaking in for the lecture. Sex toys and masterbation tips... and I get school credit. Someone is getting ripped off.

Conversation last week at dinner:
Cousin: My ex boyfriend is a wanker, somethin' or other, his last name is Lamb.
Me: Lamb? Like--
Cousin: --yeah, like baaaah.
Friend who shall remain nameless: I thought only sheeps baaah?

I almost threw up in my margarita from laughter.

mmmm, margarita...

-Pretty Lush

Will you take me to see Ironman?

Another fucking overly rushed morning and side order of guilt are part of today's complete breakfast. The anxiety of being too late (as being a little late every morning is a given) to work has worn off and I'm replacing those shakes with those of caffiene from my morning Diet Coke.

Over the weekend, Kiddo was scheduled to be with her dad but I kept her so he could frolick elsewhere. She was nothing but bored all weekend, thus up my ass for ideas. "What should I draw? When can we leave? Can we go to Marci's? Can we go to the park? Can I swim? Can I watch a different movie? Will you play Candyland with me?" I tried to keep her entertained as well as bite my tongue before a frustrated explosion of expletives was emitted. She played some Wii at the Bones' residence, watched movies, swam, read books (!!), went to the park... but I think given all the toys and ideas in the world, she is still five and never satiated.

On Saturday night, I went to a birthday dinner for my friend Bree. As I was wrapping a gift in leopard tissue paper, Kiddo offered various DVDs from her collection as gifts. I told her it was kind, but I didn't think Bree would have much interest in Ratatouille. The dinner was fabulous but I was my usual awkward self there for a bit, having gone sans date, as Jeffrey was playing a gig. An Asahi and a Surfer on Acid calmed my nerves and I ended up having a blast.

I ordered/received/watched Joe Rogan Live. The whole opening sequence is him, alone, in a limo explaining his take on the human race... how we're all super evolved bacteria and places like Los Angeles are a cancerous growth that continues to grow and spread even if we were to wipe it out. I tell you, after a couple beers you find your eyes widening at his concepts.

Probably the most interesting thing I saw this weekend was on the back patio of a little local bar where a bunch of us gathered for horse shoes* and beer. The bartender took a moment to step outside with her digital camera and had one of the regulars pose in a chair as a victim of a slit throat. She was taking a forensics photography class and this was her last assignment. Carefully, she applied ketchup to his neck and started snapping. (My aunt: "Can I get an order of fries?") Noticing a napkin ready in his hand, the bartender told him, "You can't hold a napkin if you're goddamn dead." I hope she didn't notice as I excitedly text this quote to my e-mail, which is my way of taking notes. I check my e-mail daily and have a list of text messages from my cell phone to remind me of things I overheard or wanted to look up. On mornings after a drinking binge, I have the weirdest shit in there. (This morning was that quote and the word 'oxytocin' which is a hormone I wanted to read about.)

*Has there ever existed a more white trash sport? You know a bunch of bored white dudes came up with this after a couple dozen PBRs.

And probably the best thing I did all weekend was take the much raved about, rarely experienced, highly acclaimed... nap!

So rare is this spectacle, my brother's girlfriend documented it.

-Pretty Lush