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My son is asleep upstairs and I just got finished folding the 6 billionth load of laundry that I've done this weekend. Oh yeah, the weekend's over. duh.
First off, I want to send a quick apology to and for my absence from their couch party on Saturday. After my conversation with Frank on Friday I felt like such an ass that I got the boyfriend's mother to come to our house so that I could go out. The plan was for me and the boyfriend to go to this birthday party that he was already planning on attending and I was going to meet Kelly Downlow there. She and I were then going to go out to Aspinwall for a bit of…couching. However, there was some screw up with some flyers she was printing and she ended up not getting to the birthday party until almost 12. When she saw me she gave me this exhausted and forlorn look and asked, “Is it okay if we don't go out there now?” I said that it was fine. Besides, she said that Frank didn't sound too disappointed that we might not be going out there at that point, so fuck him. ;-p kidding.
But Saturday turned out to be pretty fun, regardless. The music was so good and everyone was just so relaxed and having such a good time. It was pretty extraordinary. The funniest moments of the night had to be when a crew of about 4 or 5 17-year-old girls showed up with a six-pack of Yuengling, strutting around like they owned the place. I couldn't be sure but I'd be willing to bet that they attend Allderdice. Two beer queers, all of them and the puzzled looks on their faces when Dee-Lite and Bill Whithers were played were priceless. and I made a number of jokes at their expense, but not too loud since I was pretty sure they would turn around and call us bitter old hags…and they'd be right. And who needs to hear that anyway?
The other golden moment came when I got Jwan going on some “women are insane” tangent and he started bitching about this and that. He's good at it, though, and did it in a way that didn't make me want to punch him. Quote of the evening: “I don't want to know how I rate sexually or how big my dick is compared to the last guy. You know why? Because in my mind I'M THE KING!” heh, that still makes me chuckle.
A guy friend's boyfriend was there, decked out in this hideous electroclash ensemble. Before I knew he was said boyfriend I couldn't tell if he was retarded or trying to be ironic. In any case, the ratty Adidas hi-tops, the tight acid-washed floodpants, the Cosby sweater, and the tragic-Flo-bee-accident mullet were just inexcusable. This. Must. Stop.
On a related note, the NY Times had an article in their Sunday Styles section yesterday about mesh-back caps. I'm considering cancelling my subscription.
Six Feet Under last night was pretty crazy. I think I'm going to watch it again tonight. That show is, as the boyfriend would say, off the meatrack.
Depressing superficial shite: this morning I got my period…all over a pair of my new cute underwear. Someone is going to have to die. I then did my WW weigh in and discovered that I had gained a pound. Someone is going to have to die. I'm hoping/guessing the two are related.
Not to sound like the Worst Daughter Ever, but it's been extremely nice having a break from my mom.
Last night the boyfriend and I were in the mood for some late night crappy TV. We watched this horrible “reality” show called Cheaters. I insisted that it was fake. The premise is simple: you suspect that your partner is cheating, you hire Cheaters to follow them around for a few days and get the scoop, you confront them and make them look like jackasses on national TV. perfect. Drew and Danielle were the first couple. Drew was this mousy dorky guy who probably really really really likes Slipknot and suspected that Danielle was cheating on him. She of course was, otherwise they wouldn't be on the show. But there was a twist. She was cheating on him with a girl! There was some hilarious commentary by the host as we were shown the surveillance tapes: “Danielle, on the way to her SUV, enjoys a tasty cappucino.” But the best part was the confrontation. Drew busts in on Danielle, who's in the bedroom with her girlfriend and some other chick. The bedroom is draped in yellow CAUTION tape, dildos and various vibratory mechanisms are hanging from the ceiling, a strobe light is going, some crap music is playing. Danielle is tied to the bed, getting eaten out by her girlfriend and the other chick. The two “other women” are naked except for some construction worker hats and vests and their faces are covered in some Insane Clown Posse makeup. They pounce off the bed upon hearing Drew's “What the fuck is going on here?” leaving Danielle tied to the headboard. She has to beg someone to untie her and give her some clothes, which was hysterical enough. Drew screams at her for a few minutes and Danielle, through an overly exaggerated trembling lip, confesses that she's been into bondage and crap for years but had never been brave enough to tell him. Heterosexual men across the country were slapping their foreheads as realization spread across Drew's face. You could practically hear him thinking, “Multiple chicks? ALRIGHT!” He quickly forgives Danielle and they lived happily ever after.
Okay, I think my kid is up from his nap.
later.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 19th, 2003 at 10:45 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.