Memoirs of an Evil Genius
Conquering the World, One Martini at a Time

Kissing a Fool
12:00 p.m., 2003-05-28

My turn.

So, I'm assuming y'all have already read other accounts of the Evening In Question (that evening being last Saturday, and those accounts being provided by Heather, Lauren, C, May Day, and, of course, the birthday girl herself, Jessica), so now it's my turn to share. Although, I evidently shared quite a bit on Saturday night. Yes, the spittle was flowing freely that night, thank you very much.

To begin with, it was a long day for myself and my roommate. We had a barbecue that afternoon to celebrate another birthday, at which I was coerced into a Corona and three shots of Patron. Fortunately, I was also coerced into a fucking wheelbarrow full of carne asada, grilled chicken, ribs, corn, steak, sausage, chips, pitas, crackers, veggies, and some bowl of something I couldn't really identify, but it tasted pretty damn good. Anyway, the point is, I wasn't drunk, but I was happy.

Then it was off to Jessica's shindig, and boy, howdy. A cider and a shot kicked my buzz back in, but it was the Long Island that put me over the top. The rum and Coke was just to round out my diet (oh, and incidentally, May Day, you're right -- I probably didn't need the rum and Coke, but it only cost me five bucks, not eight)(and it was good)(and without it, I might not have made out with that blonde girl I've never met before)(wait, whose side am I arguing here?).

Yes, it's true. When I get drunk, I become a tongue whore. In my defense, I'd say there was quite palpable chemistry between me and everyone I made out with that night, including Friendly Blonde Girl. Oh, and Jessica, just so you know, the shot I bought for you was a B-52. Good for you for drinking first and asking questions later. Also, we kissed a whole bunch of times, and I don't feel violated at all. Particularly because each kiss came with a compliment, and a promise that you would find me a boyfriend. And I'm totally holding you to that, by the way.

All in all, it was an extremely fun night. Jessica is a marvelous hostess, you guys. Plus, Lauren and I discussed boffing Justin Timberlake, Heather and I told loud, drunken stories about each other to anyone who would listen (and some who wouldn't), and I kissed a complete stranger. On the lips. Woohoo!

I'm quite happy to report that I suffered no ill after-effects, as a matter of fact. Sure, I woke up a bit groggy the next day, but I had no vomitous urges, no headaches, I walked out of the bar under my own power, and I was alert enough to remember all and to call the bartender out when he charged some eleven extra dollars to my tab. I don't think so, buddy.

Sunday, I saw Down With Love, and am sad to report that Ewan McGregor has ruined me for all other men. Monday I watched some Murder, She Wrote, and let me just tell you, you don't want to tangle ass with J.B. Fletcher, man. In one episode, she busts in on some thug roughing a guy up and she's all, "Good heavens! Stop that!" She's one tough old broad.

Anyway, I'm taking the day off work today, which might explain why my rhythm is slightly off. I'll be back in the saddle again tomorrow though. And making out with anyone who wants to buy me a drink.

Today's Quiz: What Herb Are You?

You Are Chamomile
You Are Chamomile!

What Herb Are You?
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Someone Got Here By Searching For: tj maxx transvestite And: fucking a eleven year old girl [I...don't even know what to say to that.] I'm Watching: Murder, She Wrote, man! "Good heavens! Stop That!" Hee! I'm Reading: The Vendetta Defense still, but it's really good.

2005 by Dr. No, all rights reserved; you break it, you buy it.



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