Fear and Loathing in Kenosha

It has finally come to this. It is so hard to admit that I can't keep up with anyone. I am wasted and spent, but not necessarily in that order.
It all started with a bump and a tickle in a back alley parking lot, and now I find myself waking up with strange memories of dumpster diving (physically challenging at best), snorting body glitter, and doing body shots off of Carly Simon.
This is what I get for having a torrid romance with Billy Bob Thornton.
I figured that with a name like Billy Bob, he would be pretty tame, and he was for the first 20 minutes. I should have known what was up when he wanted me to help him with his strange sexual obsession with childhood fairy tales. The last straw I think was the Tooth Fairy costume. I just don't think a man of his age and stature should wear a tutu. And I refuse to allow someone to wear my teeth as jewelry.
So I am coming home. Leaving this fast track lifestyle behind. I am going to get some sleep and then try to get all the elephant blood out of my hair. It has been a rough weekend!

Awol or A Wall?

Dear Amy,

Its official. I left the house looking like a full blown whore last night and nobody seemed to care. I wound up driving around in circles instead of going out because you are currently geologically challenged. If you were here we would have relived the night you got carried out of the club singing "I believe I can fly". I know what you are going to say and vodka only explains half my situation. My current husband is addicted to a video game. My marriage is over. There is something severely wrong with a grown ass man wanting to play a video game with random strangers rather than fuck or talk to his woman.

Its my fault. I take the easy road when it comes to men. I'm not picky enough. I do not think things through. I should have known this was coming, you should have known it was coming. No, wait.. I blame you. You should have taken me aside and said "this will end badly". Sometimes I stop and laugh and think "and these are my actual life choices?" I knew, I knew in the beginning. He knew too. I think we both settled for what was easy instead of what was right. That first one threw me for a loop. It was intense, harsh and very very painfull. You never recover from something like that. It is always there. Furthermore, in all of my sexual conquests, his dick was my proudest moment.

We're not done are we? It's too soon to throw in the towel. There are things I still haven't done. Nobody has asked me to pee threw my panties while they watched or gotten rolled into a party dancing on a bell boy cart. That was you, not me. I wanna do body shots off myself by doing backbends on a bar. It has been over a year since we have done lines in a bathroom stall. A YEAR!

I have bottles of whiskey hid in my closet in my tall winter boots. Im that fucking sad. Im like a squirell.. a squirell who has been cut off. I lost Rob Zombies roadie's number. Please god tell me you still have it because if I am divorced in a month or so...its going to be a fucking shitshow. I don't even want to think about how much dick will wind up inside of me. I have lived like Sally Fucking Field in the flying nun for the last goddamn decade and I'm ready to go. Black Ops set me free.

P.S. I have enclosed the picture you took of me dancing on the table and that girl you kept calling Fred in the background. The one you told to "get her shit together for her vagina's sake". Oh and I hope you are listening to Lynard Skynard's "that smell" while reading this cause... its what's fucking coming... the apocolypse

Dear Amy,
recent events have lead me back to that warm, fuzzy, non-sticky mental dumping ground we like to call "our blog". I apologize for my absence, we both have been busy conquering the world. The bridal industy anyway. I think the last time I posted was the night i wound up doing a sobriety test in a tutu. Truely

Anyway... after meeting the entire crew of HV plumbing at Taco Cabana for lunch, I had to go back in because I forgot the cheese quesidillia I promised the girls back at the studio. As I was standing in line I felt something graze the back of my thigh. The upper back portion of my leg, the good part that my ass is attached to. Having all of us seen my ass, you can understand my shock. Its hard to get to on accident. A person would have to "reach in". My ass being so round, puffy and well... out there, there is no mistaking that it could not have possibly been an accident. I immediately turn on my heels and look to see what or who it was that would have the nerve. There was a random soccer mom in line standing behind me (she was actually wearing a t-shirt that said "im a soccer mom") and behind her was a girl I knew from the city where I pay my water bill. I had heard she started doing yoga and cocaine.. looks good on her.

After realizing it could not have possibly been either one of them I turned back around to wait for my turn to order fried cheese and I notice on my other side is a small homeless looking man with a handlebar mustache. A very stange looking little fellow, but somehow familiar to me. I remembered he looked just like the guy you paid in New Orleans to pull you in the wagon that time, when you were wearing the sash and crown and singing "all the single ladies", that guy. Upon closer inspection I determined it was not him. He immediately gave me a smile and said "how are you" to which I replied "very fine, thank you". I straighted back up in line and started with the whole don't make eye contact and he will go away vibe. He then said after tapping me on the sholder "you don't remember me, do you?". I said "no sir, im sorry" and "have we met before?". He put his hand over his mouth and giggled then said "we met in Vegas, on the strip". I said "sir, I have never been to Vegas". Lying so he would leave. His response was (leaning in and whispering to me), and I am quoting him.. "we had one hell of a time, I blacked out right about the time I started licking your teeth" and walked away. SWEAR! LICKING MY TEETH!

Astonished, I am playing all the highlight reels in my head at this time trying to come up with which trip to Vegas we could have encountered him. The only memoriable ones were when I took that doorman up to the room and was having sex with him on the bed while you were sitting naked in the desk chair, drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle and asking me for my laptop password so you could play mood music. High five. Go us. Or maybe it was third trip. That weekend was outta control. The point of no return was when you "drugged" that guys drink with glitter.. face-planting on his dick was going way beyond. But, still in all of this... never saw the small handlebar mustache guy. Do you remember him?

How we wind up going astray....

Actual conversation from last night..

Mel: What are you doin?
Amy: Laundry!
Mel: Why?
Amy: I don't have a small black man with a wife named Wheezie to do it for me..
Mel: I don't do laundry or windows (I really do)
Mel: You should get a pocket sized Chinese man to do it for you
Mel: One that can roll fortune cookies!
Amy: and walk on my back!
Mel: we can just use the one who is going to go around behind us banging the gong
when anyone says our name and when we are home, he can do laundry..problem solved
Mel: Hey! That's a good name for something.. like a band or a club or some shit
Mel: Bang the Gong
Mel: I fucking love it!
Mel: "Where have you and Melissa been?" and you reply "Banging the Gong, duh"
Amy: New York's hottest club. Gong. 102 year old Japanese pimp has done it again. He has dykes, bikes, trikes, the village people, and fire hydrant people!
Amy: you know fire hydrant people right?
Mel: Um... no
Mel: they like to be pissed on?
Mel: fetish stuff?
Amy: it is where midgets with really long legs wear red pants and stand really still while people pee on them.
Mel: If we ever go to Gong remind me to wear my Body Glove!

Bad Mood

Dear Amy,

I have been in a foul mood for about 3 weeks now. I don't know why. I haven't a clue. It almost seems as if I had a sparkle or glimmer of happy times then a cosmic fire extinguisher came along and put it out. I just exist. Day to Day. Same shit, different day. Nothing happens anymore. Are we in a slump?

How bad is it you ask? I have had the same bottle of bubbly in my fridge for over 2 weeks now!! I haven't even entertained the thought of opening it. Sad. What happened to our spirit, our gumption, or willingness to go out on a ledge and pee? I wanna get so drunk we wind up doing shots of Vanilla Extract again. Life is nowhere the amusement park it was when we were on Vicodin.

I started thinking what could have led to my demise. What could the contributing factors be? Have I done anything different? I remembered that I had gotten a new therapeutic mattress & started smoking weed all in the same week. This just makes it hard to get out of bed is all. Dosn't really put a damper on my social life.

I want to make Tequila spiked Arnold Palmer's again and mumble things to each other in French so who ever we happen to have around does not know we are saying the most ridiculous things about them. This is not cool.

If I am going to drown.. it is going to be because there was open bar.. on a yacht!

Drunk much?

Amy,

Did you get drunk last night? You put Christian lyrics as your Facebook status again.

Why TIticaca can never be a Smudgie name..

Titicaca is not a good name for a Smudgie. It is not a good name for anybody. I know where you got it Aimes, and I do love Titicaca as a person.. pigtails and all but, I love Bubble more and Titicaca knows this. We never connected. Titicaca sounds like it translates to Shitty Titties. Shitty Titties is not a good name for a Smudge. We are hot, smokin, all of us and there is nothing shitty about a Smudge. Wait, maybe.. um, not going there this early in the morning.

A-N-Y-W-A-Y, speaking of shitty titties.. I'm tired of being the ass girl. You get to have all the fun. Let's do a stint in Arizona (only a couple of weeks) so I can get mine done. They are perfectly fine the way they are, just too normal. I want perfection.. I want SKI SLOPES!!! I want them to turn up on the ends like the roof of the Grinch's place. Seriously!. I don't want the big obvious half circles that move around on your chest under your skin. NO. I want big bouncy ski slopes. Let's do dueling datebooks cause we are going to Arizona to the Master. Besides, people are going to start to ask why all my pictures are from the back and you never get to see full frontal of me. :(