A long, long time ago (three years ago) I met a beautiful blonde named Brittany Lauren Porter. I would be lying if I said that it was love at first sight because, well, she was a scary person when I first met her. She wasn't scary as in she was a monster or anything like that... I was scared of her because she was just so fucking cool and I wanted to be just as cool as her. During O-Week we bonded over a boy named Jeoff (yes, he spells his name with an o) and asked him EVERYTHING about his life. We learned so much about him and then obviously became obsessed with this boy for the entire school year. After first year, we became better friends because we had classes together but it wasn't until third year where we became the bestest of friends. Some people may even say we became talented lesbians, while others say we were just professional best friends. We spent many nights in the Dining Hall having dance parties at 2 in the morning while studying for bitch professors named Miranda and sexy ones named Cute Ute. We would always do homework together on MSN and would be up until the wee hours of the morn writing essays and complimenting each other on how good of a job the other was doing. Our love for pitas, hot professors, her drawing me naked while lying on her bed, voice notes and hang outs on my zebra bed really brought us together as friends. I will miss her next school year because she's truly one of the only people in Waterloo that I actually like or care about. If everyone could have a friend like BLP, they would obviously be the luckiest person in the world and would also realize that their friend is super, super sex-ay. When her and Bo get married, I want to be at their wedding reciting this blog post for everyone because it really expresses my love for her.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Joe Dog's is probably my favourite bar in this entire world. That's a lie, it's my favourite bar in this country. It has such a good mixture of things that I like: dirty old men, the option to dance if wanted, the option to just sit down and relax, a live band every Friday, a DJ every Saturday and also the arcade game Stack 'Em (best game on earth). The only thing that Joe's is missing (other than me on the days that I'm not there) is karaoke. If Joe's had karaoke then it would be a mega-super-awesome bar for any and all to enjoy. Whenever we go there we ALWAYS request Green Day because well, I'm obsessed and would probably marry Green Day if I was able to. We never get turned down when it comes to requesting Green Day but on Friday, I was shot down hardcore when I asked the DJ to play some GD for us. I do realize that Green Day doesn't have any dance songs and wouldn't normally be played at a club but I mean the dude could have interrupted his third playing of 'Stereo Love' to satisfy one poor soul wanting to hear the best band in the world. Seriously, that DJ sucked major balls and I was so heartbroken when he shot me a dirty look and told me he couldn't play Green Day. For the longest time we were the only ones on the dancefloor and you would like to think he would be a nice guy and not be a bag of douche by playing Green Day, but no! We came up with a new dance move that night... we call it 'The Marie' which is basically just pretending to hold a drink and then spilling it all over the place because that's what Marie did all night. Even the DJ was laughing at her... the only funny and useful thing he did all night. I was alone on the dancefloor for a bit because my friends obviously had enough of listening to another playing of J Lo's new jungle anthem (that's what it sounds like to me) and sat down at our table. While alone, I made a new 'friend'... aka some 45 year old lesbian. Normally I would be all over this situation but I wasn't THAT drunk and she just wasn't my type haha. At first I was cool with it because she danced the moonwalk like no other but after calling me sweetheart and telling me how horny she was, I left before I broke the poor woman's heart. We left Joe's, after I flipped off the DJ of course, and got pizza because drunk pizza is the best kind of pizza (cold pizza is crap compared to it). It's always the same pizza boy when we go and after lying to him about how much I liked his ugly tattoo, he gave us a free slice and we went home. I wanted to go to the library the next day but that obviously never happened because I felt so sick after drinking this crazy ass wine I found in my parent's garage. All in all... good night, good dancing, terrible DJ, awful tattoo, delicious pizza.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
We celebrated Jenny Q's birthday in style this year - that's right, we went to Rev.. my first time going this year and probably my last. I used to love Rev because of how epically huge it is and the fact that it's about ten times the size of Vault aka Titanium aka Craphole, but this time I didn't enjoy myself as much as I have in the past (maybe because of the lack-o-black guys that night). I don't enjoy the club scene as much as I used to and would obviously rather just chill out at a bar (karaoke bar preferably) and throw back a couple (hundred) beers and be done with my night. I mean, I obviously still love Phillip's because who doesn't love a club that is literally underground? Side note, went to Phil's a few weeks ago and avoided a friend's advice to "never look up"... big mistake. Phil's doesn't have a ceiling... well it does but the dust up there is actually so hilarious and I can't believe that place doesn't know what a vacuum is. Picture the inside of a fan and the dust on the blades of said fan... then times that by about seventeen billion and you have the amount of dust on the ceiling at Phil's. I think I just created a whole new meaning to the term 'Dirty Phil's' for myself. Anyways, back to Rev and our night. Honestly, nothing too exciting happened other than the ordinary drunkenness that happens on drunken nights. Our cabby on the way to the club was fucked right up. He blasted Gaga for us and when we gave him a 50 cent tip (haha whoops) he turned around, looked at me and said, "You ladies only gave me a 50 cent tip." Being rattled and for some reason thinking that because he blared Gaga for us he deserved a better tip, I whipped out my wallet and gave the dude six bucks. I couldn't help myself... his eyes where locked on me and I felt like he had dug into my soul and literally forced my body to give him a better tip. After that, I spent way too much money on cover, drinks, illegal drugs/paraphernalia (jokes) and also my hooker at the end of the night. Another reason that I'm not that big of a fan of clubs anymore: money and the fact that you spend more than your tuition for one night out. If I took all the money I have ever spent at clubs, invested that shit and saved it, I would obviously be able to afford the shack I've been admiring. Our night ended as it normally does, us at home hanging out and talking about how much we hate cab drivers who ask for a better tip plus how much we could really go for some Twice the Deal (best pizza in Waterloo, hands down). Oh, pretty sure they didn't play one Gaga song at the club too, big mistake my friends. I mean, how can I enjoy my night when I don't even get to hear my girlfriend's beautiful voice playing through the speakers? I know people won't agree with me that staying in/just going to a bar is better than going to a club/getting raped up the ass by men on the dancefloor but I'll write a post explaining why and how that scene is better than the ass raping scene. Till then, stay safe.