Saturday, June 25, 2011

Oh Google...

So, I was checking the stats for the blog today, and noticed something... Kind of awesome. Most of my posts don't get read (sadness) but most of my hits come in from Google. The date idea post is probably my most popular, followed up by the Glee drinking game, with the other drinking games bringing up the rear. The search terms, for the most part, reflect this. Except for these two, copy and pasted:

snappy, short and won't let you finish sentences

soap dispenser shaped like penis
Not gonna lie. I'm pretty delighted by this, although confused as to how "soap dispenser shaped like a penis" led here. 

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Dear Nice Guys: Please shut up already.

You might be confused by the title, so before I start, this is what's prompting this post. For those of you who don't feel like reading the link, the gist is a bunch of "oh poor nice guys I still love you! Doormats". I feel I am qualified to talk about this topic, largely because most of my friends are male, and while I would describe many of them as nice, I wouldn't use the term "nice guy" because that describes the type of door mat this writer is talking about. I've also been on the receiving end of the "Nice Guy" treatment.

So, nice guys, wanna know why you don't get the girl?

Well, for starters, you're a doormat. You already give her everything she wants. You tell her she's pretty, put up with her high maintenance irrationality and offer a shoulder to cry on when she needs it. You're there with a cheesy movie, a hug, and ice cream when she's had a bad day, you're basically the perfect boyfriend, without her having to give anything up. She can still go out, be wild, have the thrill of flirting with randoms and still have someone safe and stable waiting for her at the end of the day. I'm not saying leave your lady friends high and dry, but how many times have you not gone after other women because of said lady friends? Funny how they're around a lot more when suddenly YOU'RE the one with a romantic interest, isn't it? If she's pulling that kind of shit, she just wants you on the back burner, sorry Mr. Nice-Guy.

Now, maybe this female friend of yours isn't a soul sucking harpy and actually just wants to be friends, well, why won't SHE date you? First off, she sees you as  FRIEND. Not to say a girl can't fall for or date a friend, but, she might be more hesitant to. Although, I'm going to rat out my gender, the line "I don't want to ruin the friendship!" is often a lie. She's got other reasons, but she doesn't want to crush you, and that seems like a much kinder way out. What are these other reasons? You've probably been over eager, for starters. She asks you to hang out, you ditch your other friends, she's had a bad day, and instead of listening on msn, you turn up with movies and ice cream, you're probably WAAAY to quick to offer a back rub, and are always trying to cuddle her. Now, even not bitches might cave and just go along with it, because it's kinda nice (sometimes) (or they just don't quite realize what's going on until it's far, far too late), but the over eagerness has killed any potential lady boner they could have gotten. I'm not saying play it cold, man, I'm saying don't ditch your buddies and maybe be a bit more reserved in the touching, for starters, at least.

Let's be honest, if it wasn't her, it'd be another girl. You've always got a crush on one of your female friends, and your tactic is to become their best friend and confidant, gain their trust, and then they will see that clearly they are in love with you, right? Sorry, dude, but it hasn't worked yet, maybe you should try asking her out in the early phases, before she starts seeing you as her best friend and suddenly feels betrayed because she realizes you've had this huge ulterior motive the whole time you've been a good friend to her.

Also, it makes you what I like to call a Leg Humper. You do this with ALL of your female friends at some point, right? Why the hell should I take you seriously? Am I just another girl in the parade of women you'll decide you're in love with? And, know what, I've watched you, Mr. Nice-Guy, cycle through a BUNCH of crushes, you always make your move by backing her into a corner, or making it some intense declaration. Shit's terrifying, dude. And if a girl ever actually shows interest in YOU, she's not your type. I think you just want to have something to angst over, and hey, if that's your call, but please, I beg you, shut the hell up. If I listen to you sigh, smile bravely and say "I guess it's because I'm a Nice-Guy. Nice-guys finish last, right?" I will punch you square in the dick.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Easily amused.

Many of my nearest and dearest, and not so near and dear, will readily agree with the fact that I am easily amused. Like a little kid. They say it like it's a BAD thing. Why is it a bad thing that seeing a man wearing a funny hat with two small dogs (one on each shoulder!) ALSO wearing funny hats makes my freaking week?! And yes, that DID happen!

So, I would like to make an argument for being easily amused being a good thing.

It's hard to get bored.

This is the obvious one. While you're sitting around late at night wondering what to do with yourself, since everything is closed, I'm across the street climbing some MoFu dinosaurs! Yes, this is not the first time I've mentioned climbing dinosaurs, it IS something I actually do. I live next door to a museum, they have some out side that I found out through a co-worker who's wife works at said museum you're technically allowed to climb. How did I get into that conversation? I don't recall, but odds are I asked if he knew what the rules on climbing the dinosaurs are.

I spend less on entertainment.

Don't get me wrong, I sink PLENTY of money into going out and adventuring (need a proper adventure hat. Those don't grow on trees, you know). However, when you're just as happy having a night out getting belligerent (we all know how much I hate my liver), hitting up the movies, or going for a wander and getting ice cream and/or hats (hats made of ice cream?) or hanging around drawing pictures of dinosaurs with your friends (yes, this has happened. More then once) you can save a LOT of money.

I'm incredibly easy to cheer up.

Some of The Boy's preferred methods of cheering up the Erikla are:
Staring pointedly.
Making silly faces
Letting me push the elevator button (this is an on going battle)
Staring some more
Pointing out dogs/silly hats/bits of fluff in our surroundings
Touching one boob, and then not the other because then I get fixated with being uneven.
Talking about dinosaurs/robots/unicorns.

Life is just WAY more fun.

Seriously. Think of the last time you got super excited. It happens every few days for me. And doesn't cease to be awesome.

I'm told it's endearing

Hard to endear yourself TO yourself, but other people seem to find my excitability endearing. It's also often contagious.

Shopping for me is pretty easy.

Some of the best gifts I've ever been given are:
A rubber chicken
Laser eyes (sun glasses with laser pointers strapped to the sides. Best. Valentines. Gift. EVER)
A giant stuffed Horse (his name is Baxter)
A soap dispenser shaped like a nose

My OWN easy amusement translated into me giving some interesting gifts.Such as an inflatable clown punching bag (This was for The Boy. I'm waiting for him to sneak it into bed with us in the night).

Easy to get out of trouble over small things. Big issues I'll stay on or bring up again later, but if you just stole my last orange jelly bean even though I had two red ones left and there has to be one of each color at the end! Yelling "Look! That cloud looks like a cloud!" will probably get you out of my wrath.

So, next time people say "You are so easily amused" with that condescending tone, I hope those of you who are with me can take comfort in knowing our lives are clearly more awesome.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Glee drinking game

It's my 42nd post. I figured I would honor my 42nd post by looking back on the closest thing to a reoccurring feature that I've done. Drinking games. Today we will be drinking our way through Glee, so, for all of you out there who are being forced to watch the show against your will, here's a way to get through it. Here we go!

Drink when...

Sue does something that should get her sued/fired/launched out of a cannon into the sun
Sue makes fun of Shoe's hair
Any of the teachers say "These/those kids"
They try to fix the problems of the world in the only way they know how - By singing.
Finn takes interest in a girl who's taken (seriously what the hell is WITH that?)
Any time Mike does anything.
Brittney says something amazingly stupid
Coach Beast gets her feelings hurt
Quinn schemes
Some one makes fun of Sam's lips
Mercedes breaks away from the base of the song to just belt it
Kurt is dressed in a way that, if we're honest, kind of deserves to get Slushie'd
There's a guest star
Puck actually IS tough and/or bad ass
Rachel looks like "A baby and a grandma rolled into one"
They point out just how all encompassing and tolerant the Glee club is of people of every race/back ground/sexual orientation
The form of competitions is totally ignored. (Ex: Vocal Adrenalin, being in the same town, should have been up against them first round every time. The Warblers should have been there the first season... Basically any episode that they're at the actual event)

Bonus points if you're drinking booze slushies for this.

Also, I would recommend picking and choosing which rules you use, because all of those are going to hurt.

Also also: Am I the only one bothered by the locker thing?

Monday, May 9, 2011

Curse you, Stumble Upon!

I always wanted a dog as a kid, but my Mother, who is a cat person, could not have a cat because it would kill my Father (He developed the allergy a fair ways into their relationship, so she had to pick, him or cats. She still doesn't seem convinced she made the right call) so we could not have a dog. She really doesn't like dogs. She thinks they're loud and messy and smell funny (none of these things being untrue).

I have to this day, never lived with a dog, let alone owned one. I wish I could, but, a dog wouldn't really fit into my life style. It's not uncommon for my only time home during the day to be coming home to sleep for a few hours before going back out for adventures. There's also the fact that I straight up can not afford a dog. I wish I could, but, well, some days I can barely afford myself. The fact that I have an especially soft spot for wiener dogs, who are notorious for health problems, also not helping the case of getting a puppy. I've come to terms with the fact that, at this point in my life, I can't have a puppy.

Stumble Upon, however, is a dirty whore and insists on showing me reams and reams of pictures of adorable puppies with a weird surplus of wiener dogs. How does it know?!

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

But, but I'm NOT a hipster!

This is a reoccurring theme. People accuse me of being a hipster "Not a full fledged one, but, well..." and then they trail off and look sympathetic. I can usually muster a feeble defense, "But I still listen to the radio!" "I've like old video games because I grew up with them!" "I drink heavily because I'm in my early 20ies- it'swhatyoudo!" but recently, I got called on my secret identity.

About five years ago, for improv, our team name was "Our Mom's think we're cool" and our voting item were cheap dollar store glasses, which we punched the lenses out of because we were wearing them for a bit. I ended up holding onto one pair, basic black thick rimmed type of thing, and wore them to school for a few days. It took that long for people to notice that there were no lenses. I've pulled it a few times (I usually can't go a whole day before someone clues in that there are no lenses) one of the more notable times being on a date. Where I rubbed my eye THROUGH the frames. Twice. And he failed to notice. In his defense, my shit was low cut.

Every now and then I don my lenseless glasses to see who I can trick this time, or because I want to keep my super hero identity a secret. This has led to me being accused of being a hipster.

And to you jerk faces out there, fine! Label me as you will! But when I get a nemesis who's out to get me, at least MY identity will be secret!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Date Ideas for bad weather

A dating post? Why not. It's April, it's going to be shitting out, here are some bad weather date ideas.

Build a snow man!

Yes, I know, April, no snow, but I couldn't resist this one. I mean, come on, who doesn't like acting like a kid from time to time? People who are no fun. That's who. So, instead of getting angry at the snow and life and wondering why oh why did your ancestors settle HERE in this God forsaken land, make it your friend and build a snow man! Bonus points if: the carrot gets mis-placed. You do it sneakily in the dead or night on someone's front yard. I mean, who'd be pissed to wake up to see a happy snow man in their yard? Well, if you put the carrot in the wrong place they might be...

Build a blanket fort

I refuse to pretend fun things are fun just because I'm an adult now. If anything, they're more fun now. Line it with anything soft you can get your hands on (pillows, blankets, sleepings bags, that foamy thing on your bed). Drag in snacks, and a laptop (if you have one) with movies from your childhood, and a bottle of wine. There are some other "adult" things to do in there, too.


The internet tells me that competition makes people horny. No, really. The internet would never lie to me, so, bust out the video games (assuming you both play them) or board games. You can also play cards, arm wrestle, staring contest, thumb war, or both try to come up with a more awesome story (Pro tip: Everything is better with dinosaurs and robots. EVERYTHING!)


Sure, you can go for a nice long walk in the park and have sandwiches, or wander through the nature trails and find a nice cozy spot. Or you can do it in your blanket fort.


The Boy is not artistic, as he will quickly tell you if you for some reason feel the need to as him, but that doesn't mean I don't fully intend to inflict this upon him. And soon. The internet suggests making collages (one article went as far as to suggest making an R-rated one, which kind of horrifies me) but that's lame. Dig out the pipe cleaners and make animals (or dongs). Bust out the macaroni and glitter and make cards for upcoming birthdays and anniversaries (or dongs). Grab a balloon, some news paper, and some glue and make paper-mache hats (or dongs). Have tooth picks and mini-marshmallows or gummy candy? Make tiny buildings and make a tiny city. Then dig out an old toy (I refuse to believe you do not have some form of toy left) and have it rampage through your tiny city. Then eat the results (or make dongs). If you have a surplus of boxes you can make a city out of those and go Godzilla on it's ass.

Think back to what you were forced to do in school (or by my Mother. You may think you've never done arts and crafts with my Mom, but trust me, no matter who you are or where you are, you have) and see what you gave kicking around.

Rubber boots are your friends

Drop $20 on the silliest pair of rubber boots you can find (or normal ones if you're boring) grab your umbrella and go stomping through puddles. People passing by will be jealous of you.

Digital Camera are also your friend

No, I am not suggesting sexy time pictures, although, hey, if that's what floats your boat. What I am suggesting is just fart around with the camera. You can take pictures of each other, of the poopy weather, or, if you're childish silly like I am, I have another suggestion for you. Those toys that were rampaging through a tiny marshmallow and tooth pick city and write up a quick and silly adventure for them. Then take pictures to tell that story. You can add text and end up with your own story book, which getting printed nicely would make for a great gift for said significant other. You can be extra cute-sy and make the toys you're sending on the adventure the two of you.

Rubber Ducky, you're the one, you make bath time lots of fun!

Rubber ducky optional. Candles, music, and bubbles? Also optional, but just taking a straight up bath together, kinda boring.

You can be romantic and grab wine and put on some smooth jazz, or you can pound back some shots, blare the music, flick the light switch and pretend you're in a night club. Sure, you'll feel silly but, hey, no cover fee to get your groove on in the living room, and no one is going to judge you for busting out your less savory moves (some people are not fans of the sprinkler, apparently)!

Okay, maybe these are less "date" ideas and more things to do to amuse yourself in the rain, but, hey, good luck finding THESE on a dating website. Take THAT 98% of all dating websites ever!

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Creeps in training

If you're of an age to be in an area where booze is served, and potentially not even then, you know what I mean when I refer to "creeps". I admit there is a female equivalent, but it doesn't tie into my story, so I'll be concentrating on the male variety here. There are a few types of creeps. But I am going to concentrate on one I encountered just this past weekend. The persistent but not specific guy.

I was at a house party of an acquaintance who still lives at home. I'm assuming his parents were out of town, and he was left with the charge of looking after his 16 year old brother. I assume as part of getting away with the party he was about to throw he struck a deal with his brother. He could have a friend over and he'd buy them a bottle of something. The legal drinking age for those of you readers not from around here is 19. Junior and his buddy seemed fine at the start of the night. Junior was loud and brash while Buddy looked about 12 (I was later told he had already turned 17) and was oblivious to social cues and waaay too into hockey (and this coming from a Canadian). Still, a harmless pair. That was before the drinking games started.

Now, I went to this party with a friend of mine, and The Boy. This particular friend of mine has the unfortunate luck of being a creep magnet. I've witnessed it first hand a few times. The two of us will be out and these really sketchy guys start chatting her up. I don't know why, but it blows my mind. She's hot, don't get me wrong, if I had a penis, I'd be trying pretty hard to put it in her, too, but it's almost exclusivity the creeps that seem to hit on her.

When she told me she had changed before the party, I eyed her skeptically, to which her answer was, "That's the idea." She had come prepared. I, on the other hand, had not. And we were the only two girls there.

Junior had been giving me the eye while he was sober, or, sober-er, but, hey, it happens. I've long since started giving the eye much heed, guys look at girls, it happens, so didn't start any evasive maneuvers. Besides, I was there with The Boy, and while we're not one of those couples who are attached at the hip and all over each other at parties, it's not like we hid the fact, either. At some point when he was no longer sober Junior ended up sitting next to me and talking to me. At one point in this conversation, he looks at me very seriously and announced "I feel that we have a real connection" this line has always sent me running for the hills, as the user is either insanely clingy, or just trying to get you in bed.

My response was, "You realize I came with, and am leaving with, him, right?" point to The Boy.

He glances at The Boy, "You're having sex with him?"


"Like, tonight?"

"Distinct possibility,"

Pause. He was talking to someone who might be having sex in just a few hours. This was a new experience for him. "A-are you spending the night here?" If this wasn't some drunk kid, that question would have terrified me. As it was, between that and The Boy being a few feet away, wasn't too worried.

"Nope. Going back to my place tonight. As I am old enough to have my own place."

"What's he got that I don't?"

"Well," I said speaking slowly, "for starters, he won't get me arrested"

"Minor details!" he proclaimed.

I realized this kid wasn't going to take the hint, "Anyways, I'm off," I said standing to leave.

"I love you!"

"Good for you" I managed to not burst out giggling until out of ear shot as I told The Boy what had just happened. He tried to hit on me a few times after that, but backed off once the whole "has a boyfriend" thing sunk in.

He then moved onto my friend, and she did not have the threat of a very tall boy to potential beat this kid up (not that The Boy would, as I have discovered, he'll sit back and laugh when drunk guys hit on me at parties. He claims if I ever REALLY needed a save he'd be there, but I remain skeptical) he was much more aggressive with her. Going as far as to grab her ass and yell "I tapped that, literally!" to his friend. I don't think he knows what that phrase is supposed to mean.

When a third woman showed up later in the night, he was all over her, as well. I found the kid hilarious, personally, but pity the women at any parties he's at once he's in his first year of college. Then again, maybe he'll have better luck when the girls he's hitting on are his own age?

Monday, March 28, 2011


When I was 11 people were starting to get their cartilage pierced. Not people my own age, as I was 11, but, it was around. Getting your ear lobes pierced can be done at a hairdresser or anywhere else that wants to train people to. They have a gun, that a pinch later, leaves sparkly studs in your ears. I was a little kid when I went through that myself. Hairdressers and such places that use guns don't do cartilage anymore, because it can shatter or hit a vein. When I was 12, I somehow convinced my parents that they should not only let me get this piercing, and that they should pay for it.

To this day, I still don't know how I managed it. So, my Dad took me to the hairdresser, a woman with no actual training, to shoot holes in my ears. I thought getting both done at once was a good idea. Balance and all that. It wasn't. The initial shot didn't hurt that much, but the second ear was incredibly slanted. I eyed them and asked her to re-do it. At least where I lived, there was not a lot of information about this piercing at the time, but I was told later in life by a professional I was incredibly lucky that the cartilage in my ear didn't shatter, and either brave or stupid for asking for that.

It hurt. And the earrings that were put in were too big studs. They were impossible to sleep in, as they stabbed the side of my head, and the slightest nudge hurt like a Mother. They did eventually heal, though, and I kept them until I was about 15. I took them out one day for what ever reason and just never got around to putting them back in.

When I was a preteen at the cottage, my aunt casually commented that I had a good belly button to get pierced. The idea stuck. When I was 17 I really wanted to, but, you need parents consent. However, I had friends who were older then I was at the time. 19. Old enough to get tattoos and piercings on their own, old enough to actually be known by one of the better piercers in town. My parents should have seen this coming.

My Mother caught me splayed on my back on the couch with a cup of salt water to my stomach (which is how you're supposed to take care of it immediately after, although I found out later, sea salt, not table salt). She just stared at me and said "You better not let that get infected".

My Father, although noticing right away that I was sitting and walking oddly (you stab a hole in your belly button and try not to) didn't notice for about a month. Enough time that I got used to it and got careless. I stretched as I was talking to him, "So I was thinking that Erika Jean Miller WHAT is that in your naval?" Crap.

Somehow, I didn't get in trouble for stabbing holes in myself without my parents consent. They grilled me on it, mind you. Not the how I managed despite being too young, thankfully. Did you research where you got it done ahead of time? How do you take care of it? What are the signs of infection? What do you do if you notice them? To this day I love the fact that these were my parent's concerns.

How about you, my dear readers? Any traumatizing for your parents when you got piercings?

Monday, March 14, 2011

Happy Pi Day!

It is also Albert Einstein's birthday, and my own. I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk from Saturday, so I'll get to the point. Pi day. Perhaps the most delicious and nerdy holiday of the year. Pi is the symbol for the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. Pi Day is celebrated by math enthusiasts around the world on March 14th. Pi = 3.14... In North America (and I'm sure other parts of the world, but I'm not sure of all of them, so I will use the one I am certain of) Dates are displayed by Month, day, and year. So, the calendar date for Pi would be March 14th.

The proper day to celebrate Pi day is to eat some pie. So go and be delicious my friends.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

I am a hand turkey

I don't usually just post links for funsies, but, well, I have to. The REAL "new" horoscopes.  It has given me a chance to use the phrase "I am a hand turkey" while being totally sincere. Would anyone be interested in my writing horoscopes for these?

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

I have been a bad little blogger

Dear corner of the internet that I call my own. I am sorry that I have been so neglectful as of late. It isn't right, and I'm sorry. I could make excuses, tell you how busy I've been with work/hookers/blow/liver damage, and I mean, they'd all be true things, but, they're no reason to neglect you like that. Even if I have been tits deep in parties.

And by parties I mean silly misadventures, but nothing beyond fairly the standard "Ok, gonna go hang out with friends now" so, not prime post material. You will now suffer through a post on dinosaurs. No. I'm not joking.

So, I discovered that the museums in town are free Thursday evening. I literally live across the street from one (no, seriously. I look out my balcony and see a freaking castle. It's pretty sweet). One with dinosaurs. It was pretty easy to convince a friend to go with me. They then had to endure me jumping up and down excitedly yelling about dinosaurs. And then the Narwhal. GUYS THERE WAS A NARWHAL!!! Narwhals make me happy just by existing. If they're real, it makes it that much more likely that unicorns are. Narwhal=unicorn of the sea.

My co-workers wife works at the museum, and half jokingly I asked him what the rules on people climbing the dinosaurs are. He told me it was a bad idea. Security was not friendly. "What if I sneak in in the dead of night?"

"Security is still there"

"What about the outside dinosaurs?"

"Oh, those are fine. If you can get on them, you can climb those"

Fun game, say the phrase "Hey, let's go climb the dinosaurs" to a drunk person. Bonus round to see how long you can stall them. They will not relent, because dinosaurs are way too awesome.

For some reason when I am going on about the awesomeness of dinosaurs, The Boy sighs and says "I'm dating an 8 year old" to which I point out that I am currently only six, and he ignores me and continues "I'm dating an 8 year old boy".

Friday, February 25, 2011

Green Hornet drinking game

I apologies for the lack of updating, I haven't been home much the past two weeks, and now have gotten myself a case of The Sick. It's still in it's early stages, right before my days off, so I am hoping to destroy The Sick before it can properly manifest. Before The Sick reared it's ugly head, I went and saw the new Green Hornet movie. I admit that I'm not intimately acquainted with the original Green Hornet, so I could enjoy it, but die hard fans might struggle with seeing The Green Hornet be played to be kind of dopey.

Since I haven't been too much of an alchohalic for a while, here's an untested drinking game for you all!

The Green Hornet drinking game

Every time someone makes a vauge reference to Kato and Britt being man-lovers
The original is Green Hornet is referenced
There is car porn
Kato is incredibly bad ass
Britt is kind of a bitch
Either Britt or Kato fails to get laid
Kato is mad about being the side kick
Britt actually does something clever
You wish you had The BlackBeauty

Happy Liver damage!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

ARGs are potentially a cause of insomnia.

For those of you who don't know what ARG's are, it stands for Alternate Reality Game and the concept of them is so very cool. The link will explain things better then I can. A few months ago, I stumbled upon this incredibly terrifying story about a some college kid who picks up an old copy of Legend of Zelda; Majora's mask in a sort of sketchy way. At first I had thought that was all it was, then I found out that there was a part two planned, but when I found it was just after "the pause" had started.

Now, Zelda is one of my favorite game franchises and has been for a very long time. Majora's Mask was always one of my least favorite of the series. I always found it kind of creepy, and the game play drove me up the wall. However, I got sucked into this story so hard for those exact same reasons. I have never felt terror like that from a piece of fiction before.

It's been just this past week I discovered it was part of an ARG, and that I've been catching up on the second story ark. Just in time for the third to start. I'm already totally obsessed. The sheer detail and thought that's gone into it is mind boggling. If you don't mind having a sore brain and sifting through a lot of crazyness, I seriously recommend checking this out.

The forum, which is where the third ark is based largely, can be found here. If any of you get into it, you can find me on the forum as clevernamepending, drop me a line and we can compare theories ;)

Be warned, you will obsess over this.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The word vagina has lost all meaning.

No, it's NOT a post about a drinking game! But it is about a game. That is best played WHILE drinking unless you're so crass and juvenile that it seems like a good idea sober (might have been doing this at work all week... You're just jealous you're not this classy).

The premise is simple. You take a movie title of at least two words, and take one word out. That word is then replaced with vagina. This game is best played with a rowdy, silly, slightly drunken crowd (people who read this and don't know me personally must think I'm a total lush...)

Some good examples are:
Never ending vagina
Lock, stock, and two smoking vaginas
My big fat Greek vagina
Edward vagina hands
Men who stare at vaginas
Revenge of the vaginas
Sisterhood of the traveling vaginas
Harry Potter in the chamber of vagina
Dirty vagina
The good, the bad, and the vagina
Beauty and the vagina
Vaginas take Manhattan

I've yet to find a two word title (not counting "the") that this won't work with. Also the word "vagina" no longer has any meaning what so ever. Share your own titles in the comments!

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Oh God my head... Blackula drinking game

So my friend decided for his birthday he wanted to go see Blackula. Having no choice, since it was his birthday, a bunch of us went. And being the classy bunch we are, we were getting out drink on (not so discouraged at the indie theaters I've noticed so long as you're not a d-bag).

I initially was playing on my own, which I've started to do anytime there's drinking and movies going on. The first set of rules were this:

Every time there's a white person, you drink.
Every time the music makes you want to groove, you drink ("Fuck. Mason. We already drank for this music!" "Yeah but I'm feeling the groove again")
Epic side burns OR afro.

Once I bullied Mason into playing with me, he vetoed the afro rule. It was just too painful. We changed it to this:
Every time some one uses really stereotypical language (Ex: Bitch please) <- This one isn't too brutal.

And while we didn't play with this one, you could also use, or use instead:
Every time the actual Dracula series gets a tip of the hat (Ex: Cape, the love interest being named "Tina" when it's usually "Mina")

Now maybe it was the fact that I practically needed to be carried home, but Blackula actually wasn't a terrible movie. I think I could have made it through sober. Although I'm glad I didn't.


Sunday, January 30, 2011

The danger of reading about science online

The Boy is a chemical engineer, and now when ever I mention "an article I read" or "a story about a study I heard on the radio" instead of it just getting the response of "Oh, that's kinda cool" he picks it apart. This happened a few minutes ago when, while on slashdot I came across this article that, at first glance to someone who is NOT a scientist or involved in the sciences, seems to say that there is a gene for being religious, and that it is spreading. My reaction to this was, "Wait, WHAT?" to which The Boy said that's insane. Which when you think about it, it is. People are less religious now then they were fifty years ago. I dug a little deeper, and checked the source of slashdot. That led me here.

The Boy looked over and asked "How the hell did you end up on phyorg?"

"I followed the link to the source article. Are they reliable?"

"Hit and miss," he said simply.

So I dug deeper then that, to the actual article here says something very important that the other two do not. Two very important facts, actually. It states that the research was done under the assumption that such a gene existed, and that fertility was culturally based. Kind of different then the initial article I found, isn't it?

I even took it a step further, I checked the validity of the source the article came from. The royal society is the scientific consultant to the UK parliament. I think that counts as them being a viable source. Satisfied that I had sifted through the internet to find scientific truth, I stopped my reading on the subject.

I only hope that this makes you think twice before thinking something you read on the internet is viable information.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Reboot drinking game and special drink

Alright folks, this one is brutal. Again, swiped some rules online and then weeded them out and edited to my liking. So, the back story. The last post took place the morning after this one, so Yoshi and Brandon came over, Brandon, after reading the Tron 2 post, wanted to get his drink on. Colton kept trying to steer us to action movies, How I met your Mother, and Halo, but I wanted to keep things a bit more nerd (and The Boy) friendly. The Boy has to sit through enough How I met your Mother as is, so Reboot was the compromised reached.

Now, before I post these rules, don't use all at once. We did, and two episodes in I had to switch from Purple to water (recipe for purple at the end of this post).

So, here are some of the less painful rules!

Reboot drinking game, wimpy rules

Dot commits physical acts of violence
Frisket growls at Bob
Hexadecimals flirts with and threatens Bob at the same time
Hexadecimal fails to win because Bob talks her out of it with reverse psychology
A game cube falls at just the wrong moment
Mouse kisses someone unwilling
Someone reaches THROUGH the vid screen
The 8-ball falls off of Bob's apartment building

Normal people rules

Dot gets a spontaneous case of stupid (The writers, were all "Man, we need to break this down for the children viewers at home. Shame we don't have a child character who would be inquisitive of these things, guess Dot will just have to loose basic understanding of things")
Mainframe is doomed
Megabyte says "Mainframe will be mine!" or "Mainframe is mine!"
Megabyte narrates his plans to no one in paticular
Enzo tackles Bob
Phong makes someone play a game with him for advice
Anyone uses two or more computer jargon terms in a row

Rules for people who hate their liver

Every time someone uses a catchphrase (EX: Bob says "I don't think so" Enzo yells "Alphanumeric!")
Hack and Slash bicker
Really crazy/over exagerated facial expressions <- This rule is actually a lot of fun
Anyone uses computer jargon <- This one hurt most of all

Now, I recommend picking and choosing a few from each category, but I admit the rules for people who hate their liver are probably the most fun.

Now, for the special bonus, a themed drink to go with the game!

The Game cube (more commonly known as Purple)

Two fingers Vodka
One finger Blue Curacao
Three to four fingers cream soda
Ice optional

I'd love to hear if anyone has their own rules they like to use for this in the comments! Happy drinking!

Monday, January 24, 2011

The tragic tale of Chocolate hi-hat cupcakes

So, Saturday morning, was out for a hang over breakfast with some friends at a little diner down the street, or up the street and then to the right, I suppose... As we were leaving I asked if anyone wanted to check out the new cupcake bakery down the street. My friends were pressed for time and declined, and The Boy sighed, "I don't know your obsession with cupcake bakeries"

"But, but CUPCAKES!"

"You can make them yourself, and if that last one we tried was any indication, you can do it much better" he had a point. So, when Yoshi and I were hanging out later while Roommate and her fiancee (Yes, I have friends who are engaged. Yes, this blows my mind as well. I'm not old enough to have friends who are engaged!) build a death laser into his car, I suggested we make cupcakes. I also had another friend's birthday party later, so, hey, why not?

So I suggest chocolate, because we are both girls, and showed her my secret chocolate ganache butter cream icing that has, on more then one occasion, gotten me proposed to. We (and by "we" on this one I mean me) decided to do hi-hat cupcakes, which are cupcakes with tall icing dipped in chocolate. So, piped the icing on, popped them in the freezer so they'd hold shape as we dipped them in the ganache, and oh man, were they pretty. And delicious. If I figure out how to post pictures, I will.

So, I leave some with her, we eat some right then and there, as do her room mates, and Roommate and I come home. The Boy is waiting, and I tried to fend him off from the cupcakes, with force, and failed. The cupcakes then make another trip to their final destination, the birthday party. So I walk in, holding them proudly, because, hey, I had put a fair bit of work into these babies, and get The Food Look. The Food Look is a look I have come to know well, it's when every one near by can sense that something delicious has just entered the room and turns to stare in awe and hunger. "Oh my God, those look waaay better then the one's I made!"

And then a coat rack fell on me.

Knocking my cupcakes out of my hands, onto the floor, and many other people's coats. It was a tragic, delicious mess. One lonely cupcake made it, and was shoved upon the birthday girl before anyone else could snatch the tasty survivor up. Her reaction of "Oh my GOD" as she ate it had other people say "Flunch it" and eat the smashed up cupcakes. More then one, actually. Yes, that's how amazing these were. People ate them after they fell on the floor.

There WAS one we never found though... Hope no one's foot found it...

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Street Fighter, Ledgend of Chun Li drinking game

So, with the Tron 2 drinking game bringing in over twice as many hits then anything else I've written, I'm doing a follow up, and considering how much fun the... Research, to do on these posts is, I suspect it may develop into a new, liver damaging feature.

Now, for this installment, I was drinking with Room Mate, my friend Topher, and my other friend Mike. We cheated a little on the rules and looked some up online, however I don't have the link to the site we got them off of, as it wasn't me looking them up. If I get my hands on it, I'll post it here. I feel the need to warn you all, however, that the Street Fighter movie is... Absolutely awful. However there are many times that it's so bad it's funny, which makes it a great candidate for a drinking game. It's also: It's on Netflicks, so if you have it, you can watch it there and all it will cost you is time you will never, ever get back!

These are the rules we played with

Every time Chun Li's voice over tries to explain what's going on, you drink
Every time they referance the games, you drink <- This didn't happen much
Every time Bison's accent changes, or he speaks another new language, you drink
Every time Chun Li is referred to as "School Girl" you drink
Every time they speak English when they clearly should not be, you drink
Every time Erika tries to add a new rule, you drink

Rules recommend by Erika

Every time they reference the games, you drink  <- This one is obligatory
Every time Bison's accent changes, you drink <- We decided his accent was trying to have "A bit of an Irish twirl"
Every time they speak English when they should not, you drink <- A fun rule because sometimes you debate if you should or "That's just how they talk to each other"
Every time you gawk at Maya Sunee's breasts <- You will be doing this often. I feel they were the best part of the movie
Every time Nash is being all intense, you drink <-  He's just like Nicholas Cage!
Every time you wonder how long it took them to find Asian actresses that looked that white, you drink
Every time the movie is obviously aimed at barely-pubescent teenage boys, you drink

Bonus points for yelling out the name of the moves they're using!

And before I go on my merry way, does anyone out there have any suggestions for movies to feature in future drinking game features? I'd love to hear them!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

That's why God invented coffee

So, as you can see in my side bar under friends, there is a new link. It is to my sister's blog, it is about how her life is a sitcome. One about her potentially getting deported. She's a much more coherent, concise, and grammatically correct writer then I am, and still manages to be witty! But don't tell her I said that, she might think I like her or something. Can't have that. Only deep resentment and bitterness in this family! Okay, not ONLY deep resentment and bitterness. There's some spite in there, too! So, plugging over, although I may write about my sister who fled the country again on another day, and by "may" I mean "will likely".

Right, so as all three of you who actually read this know, I'm a baker. Which means that I have to be AT work for 5:00am, which means dragging myself out of bed at 4:30am. It'd be earlier but they feed me at work. Thank God. There are some perks to starting work so early. Like being able to shut up ANYONE when they bitch about having to be up for work at 9. I actually don't know anyone who's up earlier then I am, you know, besides my co-workers, who are all up before I am because I live ten minutes from work. There's also the fact that I'm done early, which means I have the rest of the day, you know, with sunshine and the occasional rainbow? Yeah, the sun, that bright thing in the sky, or as some of you may know it, "day star". This makes appointments easier, gives me free reign of the park without having to be creepy because I'm an adult alone at a park, let's me have the apartment alone to myself, which means naked time, and makes running errands a lot simpler.

However, there are a lot of things that make getting up at 4:30am hard.
-No one else is done work so early, so if I want to see people during the week, it's hard. They all want to go out at 7, which is early for them, not when you're up at 4:30am.
-I can't really talk to The Boy until 7, either, which tends to lengthen stretches of time when I don't hear from him (he lives in a different city so it kinda matters) because one or both of us will go out at least once during the week, often more. (Yes, The Boy, I know, if I just went and put you on my damned "my 5" list this would be less of an issue, but, when I did last time you went and changed your number on me. I'm afraid you will do it again now.)
-Room Mate has the bad habit of putting on "just one more episode" of what ever we're watching to lure me into staying up past my bed time. After that we tend to end up bantering in the hall way for a while after that which further delays going to bed.
-Room Mate has also taken to setting booby traps in the bathroom, which wakes me up more when I stumble in for my middle of the night pee.
-The people above us. They tend to have loud parties during the week that can be pretty troublesome to sleep through. At least when I ask them to keep it down, they do. Or try to. Apparently they tell Room Mate to shove it. <- We have their cell number for this reason, it's not like I have to go upstairs at 11 every night and ask them to please turn it down.
-My own stupidity.
-Lastly, and most brutal to me the next morning, is my flunching Stumble Upon addiction...

So this leads me to going into work with 5 or less hours of sleep on an average morning. I also suck at napping, so that doesn't help, either... I usually just come home and crash once a week if not more.

And that, my friends, is why God invented coffee.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Tron 2 drinking game

So, my friend Ginger Dave hadn't seen Tron, and was having a hard time finding friends who had money AND were willing to see it. Being the good friend I am, despite having seen it before, I went with him. To make it more fun for me a second time through, I put a stipulation on this however. That we turned it into a drinking game. Perplexed, and a little confused, Ginger Dave agreed.

The rules were simple.

Every time they referance the original, you drink - This was a sane rule
Every time you feel the need to yell "BUT THAT'S NOT HOW COMPUTERS WORK!" you drink - This was the one that hurt
Every time you see or hear Daft Punk - Again, a sane rule
Every time Flynn is a Wizard/Hippy/Jedi, you drink - This one might have hurt, but we were both pretty... Happy, by this point.

And that was it. We almost worked our way through a mickey of rum and two of those giant movie theater things of coke. I mixed the first one with about half the mickey we realized after. Over all, introducing Ginger Dave to drinking at the movies went well.

Some tips for drinking at the movies, for those of you who haven't yet:

Only ever bring a mickey for two to three people. Otherwise you're likely to get TOO rowdy. For not Canadian readers (all one of you) that's 170mL. It's also a good size to sneak in a purse or coat pocket.

Pick a bottle that's plastic, less conspicuous, again, easier to hide, and not as heavy.

Pick a liquor that is simple to mix with things available at the theater unless you want to try smuggling mixers in with you (Rum and coke is my go to for drinking at the movies).

Sit AWAY from people and attempt to use your indoor voice. You're going to be getting silly and giggly if you do this right, so try not to ruin other people's movie going experience. They paid $9 for their ticket too.

Be discreet with it. Mix your drink after the lights go down.

Don't do this at kids movies unless it's a late showing and there aren't actually any kids there.

And last, but most importantly, stay classy you alcoholic bastards.


Drinking game for ANY Harry Potter movie:

Every time they cast a spell, you drink <- Have to credit Mason for that one.

Drinking game for the NEW Clash of the Titans:

Every time they deviate from the original movie/actual myth, you drink. - You WILL run dry. Doesn't matter how much you bring. You will run out or you will just give up for fear of alcohol poisoning.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

So apparently Canadian's can't understand British accents?

Alright, so, I admit it. I like anime. Not as much as I used to, when I was a teenager, I was right into it. Eventually I discovered things like crunchyroll-com and and it just got worse from there. Eventually I just didn't have time to devote to sitting down and watching an episode of things, so my interests shifted more to manga. Since onemanga went down, I've switched to web-comics, because I just can't afford to support that kind of addiction. As I stated before, my web-comic folder has a scroll bar and is constantly growing.

Now, you're probably wondering what my past interest in anime and manga has to do with, well, anything. I think I met an anime character today grown up. No, really, stay with me. You know how in those high school set dramas there's inevitably an American or British transfer student (SOMETIMES French, or a made up country, but I never saw Canadian, which made me sad). They were always fair skinned, with weird hair and interesting eyes.

So, this guy in his... Late thirties to mid-forties, we'll say, wanders into work today. Being vertically impaired, nine times out of ten, the first thing I notice about men is their height, but I noticed his eye (from the side, so I could only see the one) and, it was a very striking blue. When he turned to look at me, the other eye was half that same blue, and half hazel. He also had black hair (I suspect dyed) and a border line mullet. It was like that transfer-student archatype from shojo manga had walked off the pages and then grown up. He's asking me random questions about the some of the things we're selling and at one point in the conversation let's out a happy sort of sigh and says "It's noice to have someone actually understand me"


"Yeah. I'm constantly getting asked to repeat myself. I'm from bloody England! It shouldn't be that hard"

"Considering we're part of the common wealth, yeah, you'd think we could manage. I guess it's because I was raised on Monty Python?"

We then trade some Python quotes back and forth, not the first time this has happened to me at this job, I'll tell the other story later. He then sighs, "Python really isn't that good"


"It's alright, but there's a lot of really good British comedy out there. Have you ever seen..." he lowers his voice, and glances around conspiratorially "Peep show?"

"Yeah, a handful of times. My sister's really into it," he's then further surprised and impressed by my knowledge of British crap. We then banter on about different British comedies a little more before he claims he will be back and eventually try one of everything in the bakery over time. I kinda hope he does. I'm curious if his job lines up with being a shojo manga character.

Right, so before I forget, the other Python story. I'm a baker, as I've said before, but we're short handed on cashiers where I work, so I'm cross trained, which sometimes sucks, but if I want an extra shift here or there, they're always there. Which during the slow seasons (right now) is a life saver. Well, bank saver, I suppose is a better way to put it. Anyways, it was one of the first days I was working cash, and there were these two middle aged brothers buying things, and the one and I were trying to wrestle his purchas into a paper bag. He starts humming this song, and I join in. He stops, stares, and I keep going with the tune. "YOU KNOW IT TOO!"


"What IS it?"

And, without missing a beat or thinking about it, I spit out, "The intermission music from Holy Grail," the two men stop and stare a moment.

His brother nods, "She's right," he says a little stunned.

The first man gawks a bit, "How do YOU know that? You're way too young for Monty Python!"

"I was in the third grade the first time I saw Holy Grail" (Some where someone is reading this and saying "Ah, now I get it") and then the two men realize how important it is to expose their children to Monty Python early. After questioning a small child watching the Castle of Anthrax scene silently I assume.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Nostalgic snacking, part 1

Alright, time to do something that resembles and article and not just me rambling on! Consider this to be my first reoccurring feature. Although I'm not sure I should say that until it, you know, reoccurs. So, nostalgic snacking will be me wandering into the grocery store, singling out something that makes me go "Man, I haven't had that since I was a kid!" and then writing a post about it.

For issue one, I picked Dunk-A-Roos. If I knew how to post images, I would, but I do not yet, so here is a link that has people claiming it's the best thing ever. So, to start, I'll tell you guys what I remember about Dunk-A-Roos. They came in different flavor combos, and were cookies, with icing to dip them in. It seems hard to go wrong with cookies and icing. They came in a blue package and my Mother always refused to buy them for us as kids, because, well, they're pure sugar and the last thing she needed was the have her three already spastic children on an even bigger sugar high then they get from what they already sneak. Dunk-A-Roos were a magical thing, a snack only had at friend's houses. One friend, actually, I had a pretty small circle of friends as a kid, and my other friend's parents wouldn't let these concentrated delicious blue plastic packages in their homes. They were sacred. And now, I sit here with one of these little blue plastic packages in front of me, and a whole box of these flunchers waiting to be devoured, and no Mom, you can't stop me from having them for breakfast! Maybe I'll wash it down with ice cream...

Alright, so, I currently have the cinnamon cookies with rainbow chip icing, my least favorite of the flavors as a kid, but I have developed a taste for cinnamon since, and they didn't have the chocolate/vanilla ones at the store. I don't think these can live up to my expectations, but maybe getting one of the flavors I didn't like so much as a kid will have helped....

Ok, so, the verdict is... AWESOME. Now I REALLY wish that they had had the chocolate/vanilla (or, chonilla, if you prefer) ones, because I suspect they would cause a food-gasm. The only down side of these is that there's not QUITE enough icing, so you either pace yourself and hope to have enough to make it through, go wild to start and the last few are lacking, or you're TOO stingy and are left with way too much icing and have to load it all onto one tiny little cookie but then the cookie breaks because that's a hell of a lot of icing and now you have to scoop it all out with your finger and oh God it's a delicious delicious mess!

So, final verdict? Go buy some if you ate them as a kid today! Or, actually, just go buy some. Seriously, cookies and icing. How can you go wrong? I'm gonna go eat another package now.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

I've got a confession...

No, it isn't that I secretly have a wanger and it's bigger then most buildings- That's pretty common knowledge. It's... Well... I like crafting. There. I said it. I don't have a desk filled with stray buttons, draws brimming with beads, spools of ribbon, vials of glitter (also known as the herpes of the craft/fashion world) and different kinds of glue. And on this imaginary desk that I don't have, there would be a cute little desk organizer that I made myself, a special paper cutting board and maybe even a paper cutter, along with reams and reams of special paper (I've always had a bit of a stationary fetish - two confessions, one post!) but, if I had the space for this sort of desk, and the money to stock it, I would.

It isn't my fault that I well up with envy every time someone shows me their cute new bag that they TOTALLY made themselves! It's my Mother's! That whore. Just kidding, my Mom is a classy lady (for all you know). Let me back track here. My Mother has what, for as long as I can remember, has been called her "Mary Poppins bag" it is filled with candy, coloring books, and reams of arts and craft supplies. She can keep a hoard of rowdy children amused with nothing b this one tote bag and her own slightly terrifying childish energy. Seriously. She's a two year old in the body of- well, I won't post my Mom's age, she's allergic to computers so she'd likely never see that I had, but it's just not a nice thing to do. The body of someone doing very well for their age none the less.

Now, the Mary Poppins bag was a big part of my childhood. It came with us to Brownies (the step below Girl Guides for those of you staring blankly) where she was known as Sunny Owl (I actually called and asked her that) which is basically like a Girl Guide Leader. Or what ever they're called higher up. I was never a girl guide. The bag came to the cottage to amuse all of my cousins and siblings for days, yes, DAYS on end with no electricity what so ever. It went to potlucks at their friends place to keep their kids amused as well. To the other kids, this bag was pure, unadulterated magic. For my siblings and I? Daily life.

Beyond my Mother's Mary Poppins bag, there were all of the times that for parties and weddings that she and my aunt decorated on their own. My parents house is all decorated wonderfully, my Mother painting, wall papering, flooring, and at some points tearing down and rebuilding walls herself. My siblings and I are all pretty hands on.

The seed was planted early. I didn't stand a chance. So now, I want to be one of those crafty girls. The type who makes her own jewelry and hats and desk organizers.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Stumble Upon

So, I don't know about you, but I'm a little bitch for the web-browser add on Stumble Upon. In a moment of super narcissism, I actually added this blog to it, because, well, I'm hoping to attract readers so I don't feel like I'm talking to myself so much. My Stumble addiction is pretty sever, my surfing habits are like this:
In order:
iGoogle (which tells me if there's any e-mails and the weather, but is my home page, so, you know, gonna see that anyways)
Web-comics (my web-comic folder as a scroll bar, I might start doing a web-comic feature, would anyone actually read that?) <- NOT weird porn most of the time, promise, but, uh, spare your self and don't read FFF, seriously.
And then onto stumbling until I get bored.

But that's the problem. You don't get bored. Stumble Upon is the leading cause of insomnia. I can't count the amount of times I've been sitting here, innocently, and The Boy will look over at me, purse his lips and say "You're Stumbling again, aren't you?"

To which I will look up from what ever random web-page Stumble Upon as brought me to, wide eyed and innocent, look him straight in the eye and lie to him. "No"

"Erika, put the lap top down. You have to work in the morning"

"Just one more link"

"It's always just one more link."

"I promise, this is the last one, then I'll go to bed, honest!" He stares at me a long moment, I'm still giving him the innocent eyes. He's heard this one before, so many times, but, maybe, maybe this time will be the time I will master my addiction.

With clear bitterness, he spits out "Fine." Before he sits down next to me, to make sure that I stick to my word. So I click that little circle again, and read what ever it brings me to, and by the time I have finished reading what ever I found, without a thought, I click the button again. "Erika!"

"Oh, right, sorry, I'll, uh, just finish this one, I mean, it's already there..."

It eventually ends with him wrestling the laptop from my hands, him screaming "YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!"

And my screaming "IT'S NOT A PROBLEM!"

"You need to be up in four hours!"


He then throws me over his shoulder and drags me to the bedroom, which you would think would be followed by wild, passionate sexing, but really just ends in him then trying to subdue me into ACTUALLY going to sleep. The trials of The Boy trying to get me to go the flunch to bed will be saved for another post, but seriously, I do have a problem. Am I the only one with this addiction?

Also: I was initially going to call this post NUMA NUMA and talk about how I Stumbled that old Numa Numa video, and talk about internet memes and how it's the closest thing to pop culture I'm aware of, but I got distracted with my deep love of Stumble Upon, and will probably write a post about my cultural oblivion later.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Happy New Years

Despite spending the week leading up to New Years eve sick, and being banished from work ON New Years eve for this reason, I went out. Although it took some digging to find last minute plans (and some drama that will be dealt with at a later date) a party was secured. My friend Greer informed me that one of her school buddies was having a house party and to come on over. So the boy and I trek out to the west end and spend the night drinking with a bunch of strangers. It was a good time.

Some highlights include:

The boy accidentally getting a 16 year old trashed.
The 16 year old then hit on my friend Greer.
She later had to be one of the ones dragging him to a couch (I belive it took about three of them) with a bucket in hand.
I got in trouble for trying to draw on him. I have tragically gone another year without drawing on a drunk, passed out person.
A man informed me that he could put his hair into ANY shape. So I challenged him to make it into a Star of David.
I won that battle.
I also got in a war with one guy who had a pointless zipper over his nipple and little flaps on his shoulders with snaps. I spent a lot of time trying to unzip and unsnap him.
I think I may have technically pole danced, but just a little, and all my clothes stayed on, so I guess I'm not very good at it.
There are a bunch of random pictures on my camera that I definitely did not take, and I'm pretty ok with this.

The boy, however, ended up drinking champagne. From the bottle. He was more hung over.
I resolved to not make a resolution this year!
Then I changed that to draw on a drunk passed out person.

So here's to another trip around the sun! May it bring you all health, happiness, and hookers and blow.