tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78844063052446239792024-03-06T03:59:53.106-05:00white zebra with black stripesQUICK QUESTION... ARE YOU FUCKED?ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-63262731915518651562011-04-27T19:22:00.005-04:002011-04-27T20:05:45.647-04:00B IS FOR BRITTANY<div><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">A long, long time ago (three years ago) I met a beautiful <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">blonde</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jeoff</span> (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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">bestest</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">MSN</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">BLP</span>, they would obviously be the luckiest person in the world and would also realize that their friend is super, super sex-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">ay</span>. 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.</span> </span><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600418820848019826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgAWbe-Lxuhj19KCcYM1aEAj_Uj_JYu3bY2zoTvO6_BUOTMMb6weeEgGx5Vev8RoRh1DgiM949RZ-iDssXDthPfwlILKBwbvr66omTjxyAkUirwH_WrX7D4jEpq5Zrshq3r4sEf_qwoep/s320/sexybritt.jpg" /></div>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-47923318869612833152011-04-27T14:25:00.007-04:002011-04-27T19:19:11.632-04:00JOE'S STILL OWNS MY HEART<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">arcade</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">interrupted</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">dancefloor</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">dancefloor</span> for a bit because my friends obviously had <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">enough</span> of listening to another playing of J <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lo's</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">haha</span>. 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.</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-82436143747571811142011-04-26T23:11:00.003-04:002011-04-27T14:09:57.306-04:00"DID THE CABBY ASK US FOR A BETTER TIP?"<span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">epically</span> huge it is and the fact that it's about ten times the size of Vault aka Titanium aka <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Craphole</span>, 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">preferably</span>) 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">drunkenness</span> that happens on drunken nights. Our <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">cabby</span> on the way to the club was fucked right up. He blasted Gaga for us and when we gave him a 50 cent tip (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">haha</span> 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/<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">paraphernalia</span> (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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tuition</span> 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 <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">dancefloor</span> but I'll write a post explaining why and how that scene is better than the ass raping scene. Till then, stay safe.</span> </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-89067541672093715622010-11-28T21:05:00.007-05:002011-04-27T14:09:57.306-04:00OH HELLO, OLD FRIEND<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I realize that it's been about fifty eight years since my last blog post, my apologizes. To be quite honest, I've been busy saving children from burning buildings, rescuing lost puppies and of course, trying to lead the life of any twenty one year old woman who in fact, has no life. You're all (all two people who read my blog) probably wondering "Why the post now? I mean, it's been so long since she last posted, what could she possibly have to write about?" WELL, my dear friends, I wanted to tell you about my evening last night. I know I say this literally every single post, but I don't remember very much from last night. Let me give you a little play-by-play of the happenings of my night:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I was sitting in my room working on my take-home exam (yes, they do exist) and I'm thinking to myself, "WHAT THE EFF AM I GOING TO DO TONIGHT?" I go out into the kitchen and see my roommates hanging out and drinking wine. "HOW INCREDIBLE IS THIS?" I say to myself. What a perfect evening to not do any homework, hang out with some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">underaged</span> boys and get wasted. Let me explain the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">underaged</span> boys part: my roommate's brother was at our house for the weekend, he brought up some friends and they lived in our basement for a couple days, the end. So I ask my roommate <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kassy</span> what her plans are for the night and she doesn't have any. We decide that we want to get drunk with a bunch of eighteen year olds. I mean, why the fuck not, right? So her and I get ready, tell the boys that we're hanging out with them (they didn't really have a choice or say in the matter) and we just had an incredible night. These boys introduced me to so many new things; a new drinking game, the power of a nickname and most importantly, that hanging out with people younger than you can be more fun than you think. I was a little weary about hanging out with these boys because well, they're like four years younger than me but I said "FUCK IT" and got drunk with them anyway. I just realized I haven't really talked much about what happened last night. I know that there was a lot of time spent on the kitchen floor, my new favourite place. I just decided, like five seconds ago, that hanging out at home and not going to a bar is the best thing in the world. I mean, who needs a bar when you have a kitchen floor and beer cups? </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-53589399069565019612010-09-30T19:33:00.003-04:002010-09-30T19:44:29.533-04:00REALLY, LAURIER, REALLY?!?<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR........</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Dear <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Laurier</span>,</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I hate you more than anything right now. Of course the day before my first quiz in one of my classes, the system or whatever the eff decides to shut down/not work/suck major ass. ALL I WANT IN MY LIFE IS THE <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">LECTURE</span> SLIDES THAT HOLDS THE INFORMATION THAT I NEED IN ORDER TO GET 100% ON THIS QUIZ. I know this quiz is only worth 5% but that 5% could be the difference between a B+ and A-, a C+ and a B-... LIKE WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE EXPECT FROM ME?? I can't even check my e-mails, something that I do every two seconds of my life and I feel totally lost with my lack of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">WebCT</span>/new <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">MyLearningSpace</span> that I hate all together, another subject that I can't even get started on. I know I shouldn't have waited until the day before the quiz to start studying but come on, give me a break, I'm a busy lass and I even finished all my work in order to have all night tonight to study. So now, I am forced to watch the new episode of Cougar Town because I have nothing else to do with my time. SO THANKS, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">LAURIER</span>... for nothing. </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-10926015689926537982010-09-22T18:47:00.005-04:002011-04-28T14:17:12.108-04:00I AM WATCHING YOU<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Honestly, I think today may have been the most epic fail at life. My alarm goes off at 7:30 this morning for me to get up, shower and get ready to go to class but did I get out of my warm, cozy bed? You obviously know the answer to that question. Why would I get up for a fifty minute class when I could just sleep for fifty more minutes? I seriously think there should never be classes on Friday. OH FUCK, today is Wednesday. I still stand by my comment. Whoa, I'm actually totally rattled that I thought today was Friday for that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mere</span> two seconds. So seeing as I was too cool for school today, I figured I would spend my day reading my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">facking</span> crazy ass African story that needs to be read for tomorrow but obviously failed at that. My room is right in the front of my house, meaning I have a full access view of the wonderful street, Ezra and apparently also have a staring problem. I have spent my day creeping <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Facebook</span>, watching Teen Mom and staring at the people walking by my house. I didn't realize until today how many attractive boys attend my school, well, at least I'm hoping they go to my school. So here I am, it's about seven o'clock and I haven't even looked at my book because of all the distractions (good looking people) on my street. Obviously this sounds creepy but I mean, why wouldn't you want to watch people when they have no idea you're watching them? It's obviously different at night because people can see into my room if I have the lights on and my blinds open so I have to change my game a little: STRATEGY is what I like to call it, AKA closing ma blinds. </span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I've heard some hilarious stuff just lying in my bed at night (obviously not purposely eavesdropping on people's convos) because of all the drunkies who like to venture to bars around the lovely midnight hour. SIDE NOTE: for the guy who tried picking up a girl by telling her that he had "room service" at Titanium, well played my friend, I applaud you. I guess all I'm trying to say here, in the least and most creepiest way, I am watching you...from my bedroom... at night... during the day... weekends... weekdays and usually wearing my pink fleece homesack. Happy Watching!</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-74873858253362834632010-08-30T21:49:00.008-04:002010-09-22T18:46:59.470-04:00MY GREATEST GIFT TO YOU IS A DANCE FLOOR<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">There are many things a person needs in order to have a successful drunken night. In a previous blog post I wrote about five rules for the perfect drunken night, which can be read by clicking </span><a href="http://ccm16.blogspot.com/2010/04/five-steps-for-perfect-drunken-night.html"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><strong>here</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"> and I would like to, I guess, add a little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">somethin</span></span>', <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">somethin</span></span>' to this list - a sixth sense, if you will. I guess some (me) might say that I'm a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">friggin</span></span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">phenomenal dancer because of my epic and hardcore drunk dance moves. Alcohol = the best factor in creating the greatest dance moves you will ever create in your life... ever.... EVER! Anyway, over the last five or six years that I've been drinking, I've learned to master the skill of epic drunken dance moves. I have a few dance moves that seem to be routine whenever I pound back a drink or two... or just one, you know. These moves are as follows:</span></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>"The Painter"<br /></strong>This dance move is one of the very first dance moves that I ever created and have learned to master this bad boy to a T. This dance move consists of you having your hands in front of you body like you're holding a paint brush and then stroking as if you're painting a wall, a piece of furniture or a painting as if you're the next Pablo <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Picasso</span>. You continue this with your right hand for as long as you feel appropriate and then switch over to your left hand to switch it up and fuck with people's minds as to how good and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">coordinated</span> of a dancer you are.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">"The Airplane"</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Now, this one is fairly new (circa Summer of 2010) and I haven't really had time to perfect it that much because I'm usually too busy either <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">destroying</span> my house or corrupting youth on the streets of Waterloo. This dance move is exactly how you would picture an airplane flying in the beautiful, blue sky - except with a crazy drunk girl as the pilot. For this, you put your arms out as if they're the wings on an airplane and then you basically just 'fly' around the bar/club/nasty, dirty dungeon of a basement. It may sound foolish but the fifty-five year old men at Joe Dog's love this move, as should you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">"The Clock"</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Let me warn ya, this dance move is more complex than anything Michael Jackson, Madonna, Lady Gaga or that creep from N Sync, JC Chasez, has ever pulled. This move works well with a larger group of people, and when I say it works well, it's even more epic when there's at least five people doing it. The move is simple really, it's just the delivery that makes this one a little complicated. Everyone starts off in a circle facing each other, with both their hands together straight up in the air (as if your hands are the hands on a clock and it is twelve o'clock, midnight or afternoon, whichever you prefer). Then, to the beat of the song, move your right hand down to each hour - one, two, three, four, and so on. NOTE: Make sure your left hand stays where it is because you'll be drunk and won't understand how to tell time unless it's either eight o'clock, nine o'clock or any other o'clocks. THIS IS WHERE IT GETS COMPLICATED (stay with me folks), as your hand is making its way around the clock, you must pretend as if you are slapping an ass. That's right my friends, this is also an ass-slapping dance move. Once you have made it all the way back to twleve o'clock, you slowly turn away from the cirlce while doing spirit fingers... and VOILA, there you have "The Clock" dance move.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">These three dance moves are the ones that I tend to "perform" for everyone whenever under the influence of that touchy subject we like to call, 'alcohol'. You and I both know that you will have to PRACTICE these dance moves in order or PERFECT them since it is totally worth it in the end. We all know that practice makes perfect, people! Feel free to use these dance moves at your next party, outdoor gathering, Phil's visit or family outing. Just remember to feel the music, don't make an ass of yourself by not following my directions and when in doubt, just party boy the people next to you.</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-2316818571339595522010-08-13T20:58:00.007-04:002010-09-20T16:34:00.981-04:00THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH DRINKING ALONE<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Hello all. I'm sure you're </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">pretty excited about this post because of the title. Well, I have one thing to say to you: you're an alcoholic. It's okay, I've been down that path and know how it feels. Don't worry though because an alcoholic isn't a bad thing. Urban Dictionary describes the term alcoholic as "someone you don't like who drinks more than you do." So basically whoever throws the word 'alcoholic' at you, take it as a compliment because they're clearly jealous of you and your champ status when it comes to drinking. I didn't realize my true alcoholism until my first year in university. Well, I guess that's because that's when it truly began. I always used to make fun of my friends who drank alone, mainly because I always thought of drinking as a social event. Once first year rolled around, I started to appreciate the whole drinking alone thing. For me, I don't drink to just drink and get a little tipsy, it's either I go all the way or nothing at all. That's true for other things as well. Totally kidding. So once first year came and I turned nineteen, I had access to all types of alcohol. I didn't have to limit myself for fear of the unknown when it came to picking my alcoholic beverage, I could try everything and anything I wanted, like crack! I had my choice of going into the liquor store, browsing, and then carefully deciding on what I wanted to order. With that, I held a lot more responsibility on my hands: I was able to buy alcohol for all my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">underaged</span> friends. I know, as illegal as that sounds, it's so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">badass</span> at the same time. My friends, being so grateful, would pay me with shots, drinks, diamonds, strippers, cocaine, and anything else dirty that you can think of. My whole life changed and I was brought into this whole new world that I loved and wouldn't dare change. This is when one of my addictions started. That's right, the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">caffeine</span> addiction. I was having coffee left and right, up and down. I would have it on the couch, on the bed, on the floor and even in the shower. What would be the perfect thing to spice up this little addiction of mine? ANOTHER ADDICTION: ALCOHOL. One day I poured some Kahlua into my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">coffee</span> to give it that extra kick that it needed. One day turned into the next, the next into the next and then the next turned into several and then several turned into a fuck-load of days where I was wasted by eleven in the morning. Then I started drinking coffee at night to stay up to write papers, study, watch Judge Judy and just do nothing with my time. Did I put some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">alch</span> in my coffee at night? You betcha. Things turned for the worst when a couple of my friends turned nineteen and we were able to go to bars together. Let's just say, I was happy that I didn't have to go to bars alone anymore. See, the friends I went to bars with didn't live in the same residence as me so I would haul my ass over to their residence to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">predrink</span> before the bar. However, I obviously had to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span> drink before the actual <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">predrink</span>. So, I would blast my music, take some shots and by the time nine o'clock rolled around, I would be fucking smashed. Every now and then a couple people would come into my room and hang out with me so I didn't feel like that much of a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">dirtbag</span>. They drank, of course and we all had a merry good time. To this day, I still think there is nothing wrong with drinking alone and I quite enjoy it sometimes but I would much rather make an ass of myself in front of an entire room of people than the fake people on the posters on my wall.<br /></span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-54470250681217793782010-07-08T14:04:00.004-04:002010-09-20T17:18:49.126-04:00"THAT TRANNY IS HOTTER THAN I AM"<span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;">This past Saturday, I went to Toronto's Pride Parade with my friends Abby and Marie. I went last year but I must say, this year was my favourite year so far. I can't even really describe the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">amazingness</span> of Pride to you guys... it's really just something you have to experience for yourself. Abby and I had a little adventure on the GO Train, then went to Marie's house to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">predrink</span>, where we listened to some Green Day (a must) and came up with a new dance move called "The T.T." (Tina Turner). After realizing how wasted we all were, we decided it was time to venture to downtown T.O. where all the magic was happening. Now, I can't really tell you all the events that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">occurred</span> because, well, I was pretty <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">facking</span> wasted. All I know is that I took a bunch of pictures with half <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">naked</span> men, saw Cyndi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Lauper</span> and ate a Fillet o Fish at McDonald's for the first time. My favourite part of the entire day was when we were watching these chicks perform to a Madonna song (I think it was "Vogue") and this <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">wo</span>[man] jumped on stage, she was wearing the lowest cut and shortest dress I have ever seen in my entire life, exposing her boobs and ass to the whole world. I mean, you could clearly tell that this woman was once a man but, if you got, flaunt it, right? This chick was honestly the hottest <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">transsexual</span> that I have ever seen in my life. She jumps on stage, dances for the whole song and at the end, DOES THE SPLITS and then continues to stay down in splits-form and hump the stage for a bit. Honestly, greatest thing I have ever seen in my life. I know I say this a lot, but I wish I wasn't so wasted so I could tell you the rest of my day/night because I know I had a blast. I did buy a penis lollipop, obviously it didn't last very long <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">haha</span>. </span><span style="font-family:arial;">It's hard to describe how fucking EPIC and AMAZING Gay Pride Parade is, as I just said in the beginning of this post and just realized now. ANYWAY, go to Pride, love the gays, watch some <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">transsexuals</span> on stage and always, ALWAYS make sure you wash behind your ears in the shower. </span></span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-77253751664343750052010-07-06T23:48:00.006-04:002010-07-07T14:07:55.602-04:00ALCOHOL OF THE MONTH<div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Alright, I've been slacking so this post will be the "Alcohol of the Month" for both June and July, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">hoookay</span>? Great, glad we settled that. Now, for those of you who know me, know that I mainly stay within the same region of what type of alcohol I drink. I'm usually drinking rum or vodka but sometimes, when I'm feeling <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">adventurous</span>, I'll mix it up and throw a bit of wine into the picture but don't get too <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">excited</span> here folks, the "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Alchy</span> of the Month" isn't wine. I was debating between two different kinds of alchohol and after a great deal of calculations, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">experiments</span>, surveys and just my love for a good solid time, I decided that the "Alcohol of the Month" is.....</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 81px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009181037967266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxaEGqtl-nll6wrKh7BzVQAOAv_g-V078ZPGqVba_CkP1MDhU82wnWN3DkhjPjw-FTztuxIKDq7zNkkUKUPPm0xM5J88Tg-9nWkJmNEn5fLfpjPfTbyVpSgcDFDwL6BZ-otceMAfw3cih/s320/SmirnoffWatermelonTwist.jpg" /> </div><p align="center"></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><em>SMIRNOFF WATERMELON VODKA</em></strong> </span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I must say, the watermelon flavour is my favourite out of all the flavours that Smirnoff has. I have never really gotten sick of it, unlike some other flavours (GREEN APPLE, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">FACK</span> MY LIFE) and feel as though I can really count on it for a good time. So, thank you, Smirnoff Watermelon Vodka for always being there for me and having my back... even when I have been too drunk to remember.</span> </p>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-90156669767309988812010-07-05T20:17:00.005-04:002010-07-06T23:41:39.055-04:00VHAT THA FACK?<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Where the fack have you guys been? I have been writing and writing and WRITING blogs and NO ONE has commented on any of them. Oh, no, waiiiit a second... where the fack have <em>I</em> been? Well, to be quite honest with you guys, I've been spending my summer working and not really doing much of anything else. I got drunk for the first time in like a month this past weekend (greatest day ever, I will explain in a post later) but other than, I literally do nothing else with my time. My life consists of the following: wake up, go to work, eat dinner, go to sleep and then do it all over again. I'm working like super crazy hours but that means lots of money so I'm like loving my life over here in B-Town. There IS another reason that I haven't been blogging much but I am way too frightened to tell you guys. Well, since you have nagged and nagged, I guess I have no choice but to tell you. I'm just going to come right out and say it... I have lost my humour. I'm not even joking with you guys right now. A couple weeks ago, I went through a midlife crisis (yes, I know I am only twenty but it's midlife for me since I plan on dying when I'm fourty while saying Tim Robbins from a burning building). See, here's the thing, I have my friend Will to blame for this midlife crisis because he is the one who stole my humour from me. I mean, most people steal cars, money, drugs, gum for their mother's purses, but this guy is going around and stealing people's humour.. and for that matter, MY humour. It all started when I moved back home for the summer after school was over (right now, you should all be staring off at the sky as if you are reminiscing about your own life). I started working at my job, where this so-called friend of mine also works. Now, I didn't notice it at first because well, he's a sneaky little bugger who hides theft extremely well, but, as time moved on, I noticed more and more that he was becoming funnier and funnier... until one day.. BAM, it hit me (not a truck, HIS HUMOUR). I can honestly say, that day was one of the worst days of my life. I couldn't decide what was worse, the fact that I wasn't funny anymore or the fact that he was the one that made me realize it. Honestly, I still don't know which one is worse... all I know is that they both mean the same thing: my funny bone has been broken. You may all think this is a joke, but I mean business here people. I make jokes, no one laughs... I put myself in danger to be funny, no one laughs... I EVEN STEAL JOKES FROM DANE COOK AND USE THEM AS MY OWN, no one laughs. I seriously am starting to believe that I am one of those people that people laugh AT and not WITH. I can't even really describe to you the thoughts that have been going through my mind these last couple months. A lot of anger, saddens, bitterness... definitely not funniness, I can tell you that for sure. I don't know what life is without humour. I can't imagine a day without laughter, without any sort of giggle. I find that I am the only one laughing at my jokes now. What kind of a life is that? I can't be known as the girl who laughs alone in a corner because no one will play with her? What is this even, Elementary School? I guess all I can say now is that the truth hurts. I, Christina Caroline, am no longer funny. So please be kind to me the next time you see me, I am a hurting grasshopper. </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-69037656877612159142010-05-10T20:16:00.004-04:002010-07-06T23:46:40.846-04:00ALCOHOL OF THE MONTH</a><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Happy May everyone! I feel like it's been forever since I've written a post... probably because it has been FOR-EV-ER (Sandlot reference, hope you got it). I've been busy working and such... aka having no life. But enough about me, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">how've</span> you been? Oh, that's just great. So, seeing as I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">should've</span> done the "Alcohol of the Month" at the beginning of the month, I'm going to do it now. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ya'll</span> can relax and sit back in your chairs now that the suspense of May's alcohol will soon be over. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Draaaamm</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">raaalll</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">puhhhlleeaasseeee</span>:
<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">ROCKSTAR</span> VODKA! </strong>
<br /></div></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFmjqrmv8vZ4zCqGHdqh-DNztzxg3ysTlDu3LO8eFZ1IGb7rIPMMn4BQYYtdKJ4cf1Wzt3LD63rmxfmQhaITYFDLk7SlsmqypMVu_hxOh7SZVdG5MHlQDJKNIuUB9xw8HOyfNExoGgsDc/s1600/sadfsadfasdfasdfasdfasdfasdfad.png"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 166px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469803995387642194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFmjqrmv8vZ4zCqGHdqh-DNztzxg3ysTlDu3LO8eFZ1IGb7rIPMMn4BQYYtdKJ4cf1Wzt3LD63rmxfmQhaITYFDLk7SlsmqypMVu_hxOh7SZVdG5MHlQDJKNIuUB9xw8HOyfNExoGgsDc/s320/sadfsadfasdfasdfasdfasdfasdfad.png" /></span></a><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;">What is this drink? An energy drink? A mixed drink? WHO KNOWS EVEN! All I know is that it is freaking delicious. The 6.9% of alcohol is perfect to chase your rum shot with (yes, a chase is absolutely necessary when I'm drinking).
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<br /><em>*Chase</em>: anything that can get rid of the nasty taste of alcohol after doing a shot (beer, lemon, lime, juice, pop and apparently <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rockstar</span> Vodka).
<br />
<br />This drink is perfect to play Flip Cup with when you are too lazy to make a beer run and/or don't even like beer (only Canadian, please). The taste is a little fruity, a little fizzy but a whole <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">lotta</span> deliciousness (what the fuck?). To be honest, this drink kind of reminds me of the days when I would drink Twisted Smirnoff Coolers but, let's be serious, I'm not sixteen anymore. </span></span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-82329749257435498392010-04-27T01:26:00.005-04:002010-04-27T01:50:37.476-04:00BEAUTIFUL BLOGGER AWARD<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">YAY</span>, THE BEAUTIFUL BLOGGER AWARD =)<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEistPsD4sNSvKSMcQkFyzeaeG5UMr4ZWbSohUEu5p-0rusIywWhRANlgJzYba6-Vp-QnJ6TyBolHC1ejOGX2HhEth7e5v_g-P2MmFBE9ikSMfZmNyB45HWhoVjhdW3-mrtGdBR5LYx5pmK7/s1600/beautiful_blogger_award.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464685366001663010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEistPsD4sNSvKSMcQkFyzeaeG5UMr4ZWbSohUEu5p-0rusIywWhRANlgJzYba6-Vp-QnJ6TyBolHC1ejOGX2HhEth7e5v_g-P2MmFBE9ikSMfZmNyB45HWhoVjhdW3-mrtGdBR5LYx5pmK7/s320/beautiful_blogger_award.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"> </span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Thank you </span><a href="http://claudsmakeupcorner.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Claud</span></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"> for nominating me for The Beautiful Blogger Award!!! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Soooo</span> nice of you!<br /><br />The rules are - link back to the person who tagged you, nominate 7 other <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">bloggers</span> and list 7 facts about yourself. </span><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">And the nominees are (drum roll please):</span></p><p><a href="http://canvascosmetics.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;">Canvas Cosmetics<br /></span></a><a href="http://makeupbytiffanyd.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;">Makeup By <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">TiffanyD</span></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;"><br /></span><a href="http://itskgyo.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Swingin</span> to my Own Sound</span></a><br /><a href="http://liamalexander89.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;">Welcome to the Jungle </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><br />TelevisionBox</span></span><br /><a href="http://aprilcameron30.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;">Chef Cameron</span></a><br /><a href="http://jln16.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;">P.S. We Got Dicks Like Jesus</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ffccff;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Seven <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">rando</span> facts:</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;">1. I almost drowned in a lazy river when I was ten<br />2. I'm scared of the dark<br />3. I have watched <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Superbad</span> more times than a person should<br />4. I have a problem with laughing.. as in, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">laugh </span>at literally everything<br />5. I have a problem with being serious, hence number four<br />6. I used to be addicted to scratch tickets when I turned eighteen<br />7. I have probably spent about a hundred bucks playing the arcade game Stack 'Em </span></span></p>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-28657903350745261082010-04-09T16:18:00.005-04:002010-04-09T17:41:01.664-04:00THE BEST THING ABOUT EXAMS<span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Well, there is absolutely nothing good about final exams, everyone knows that. However, what I am looking forward to the most is the SECOND I am done my last exam, I will be celebrating with a shot of rum... and then a lot more shots later on that night. Sadly, what I am trying to break to you as quickly and pain free as possible is that I probably won't be blogging as much as I normally do because of exams. I know, I know, I cried a little bit when I heard the news too. Don't worry, I'll be coming back with a shit load of epic material for you guys. OH, Jen's birthday is on the fifteenth, so that means we're going out and then I'll obviously write a post about our amazing night. So, my dear friends, this will be it for a little bit. My last words to you: always remember to pull your friend's hair back when she is puking.</span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">Good Day =)</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-55407867692181440402010-04-08T18:12:00.006-04:002010-12-21T05:40:15.106-05:00FLIP CUP FOR DUMMIES<span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I decided to write a special post for those of you who are unfamiliar with the game of Flip Cup. I realized that I talk about it 24/7 and that some people may not even know what it is. Let me just say, the skill of Flip Cup is one that is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">acquired</span> over much needed practice and cannot be played unless it is under the supervision of at least one expert of the game. Flip Cup has very simple rules and once you learn how to play the game, you can add in little things to perfect the game (a song, team names etc). Here are the rules of Flip Cup:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">1. You need an equal amount of people on each team </span><br /></span><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:Arial;">2. Each player must have the same amount of alcohol in their cup<br />3. Chanting is a must</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">This is how you play the game:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The players from each team is paired up with a member from the opposite team. The purpose of the game is to be the first team to have all players consume their alcohol and flip their cups before the other team. The most suitable cups for this game is just your standard beer cups (these are recyclable, by the way). </span><span style="font-family:Arial;">Once the player before you has completed their flip successfully, it is your time to shine and flip that cup in one try. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Play responsibly.</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-50502281138551921632010-04-08T00:33:00.006-04:002010-09-20T16:34:00.982-04:00FIVE RULES FOR THE PERFECT DRUNKEN NIGHT<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I know you're all probably wondering how I have such epic drunken nights. Well, there is a lot of planning and preparation that goes into having the perfect night full of intoxication. I have broken down my routine that I do every single time before I start to drink and it goes a little something like this:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Rule One: <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">LCBO</span></span><br /></strong>The perfect night out always starts with the right choice of alcohol. When picking the alcohol you will be consuming for the night, you must keep in mind a couple things: 1) you are what you drink, 2) it's cool to spice it up every once and awhile and 3) you can never have too much rum. For me, I know what kind of night I will be having from the type of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">alcohol</span> that I drink. Rum = always epic drunk times while wine = way too drunk to even know my own name times. People always say not to mix different types of alcohol but I mean, if you gotta play Flip Cup, then you gotta play Flip Cup. I'd say, "the more the merrier" in this case.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Rule Two: Nap/Shower</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">For girls, one of the best things about a night out is getting ready. A nap is a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">necessity</span> before you drink your night away. This way, after resting, you will be alert and aware of everything that is going on around you (for the most part). Starting to drink at nine and being tired by ten is never any fun so take at least an hour nap before diving in to the wonderful world of drinking. Next, SHOWER because no one likes a smelly drinking buddy. By doing this, the night will be stink free and you can feel better about yourself the morning after. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Rule Three: Music</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">Almost the same as picking the right alcohol, picking the right type of music to listen to while you're getting ready and also while you're drinking can make or break your night. If you're going to a club, listen to the latest hits on the radio OR just listen to Gaga on repeat (who the fuck doesn't like her?). If you're going to a bar, listen to some upbeat music, anything that will get you in the mood for some crazy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">drunkness</span></span>. Don't be afraid to sing and dance while listening to your music, it will only put you in a great mood and it's always a great workout. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Rule Four: Outfit</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">Once again, your outfit should fit in to where you are going that night. Wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a wife beater is not appropriate for any club, well maybe The Vault because they are fucking <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">sketchbags</span> there</span>. If you're going to a chill, sit down bar, jeans and a t-shirt is perfectly acceptable, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">especially</span> when there is karaoke involved. Also, ask your friends what they are wearing so you don't look like a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">douchebag</span></span> wearing your prom dress while they're all in flats and a skirt. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong>Rule Five: Drink, Drink, Drink</strong> </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">No one likes drinking alone, so, when you're planning a night out (or even a night in with drinking), invite some friends over. This is where all the four previous steps come into handy: 1) you have the right alcohol to get wasted with, 2) you are well rested and freshly showered aka ready to part-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">ay</span></span>, 3) you have been listening to your favourite music in order to get you pumped for the night and 4) you are dressed for the part and can show off what you are wearing to your friends. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><em>*Please proceed with caution when taking these rules into consideration in order to have the most epic and amazing night ever. Be prepared to have a blast and get pretty fucking wasted. I will not be held <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">responsible</span> for any damage that is caused to buildings, bodies or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">egos</span> while using this technique. <strong>Drink safely, my friends</strong>.*</em></span></span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-81930670691242391432010-04-07T19:11:00.008-04:002010-04-08T13:00:46.228-04:00A POST BY REQUEST<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">For those of you who know me, know that I'm like strangely obsessed with animals. Well, not obsessed, I just really love animals but then again, who doesn't? I never thought to write a post about this event because 1) it was traumatizing and 2) I was not intoxicated when it occurred and figured it was not suitable for my blog. However, my lovely friend Matthew requested that I write a post about the happenings of Sunday, March 21st. Here we go...</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><em>*Please note that for privacy reasons, Chester's real name was not used in this blog post.*</em></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">It was a gloomy Sunday evening. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Steph</span>, Matt and I were studying in the Dining Hall and decided to leave around eleven since we weren't actually getting any work done. As we were walking home, we see our friend Chester who kindly offers us a ride home because it was raining. Being lazy and not wanting to walk home in the rain, we <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">gladly</span> accepted his offer. At this point, everything just seemed perfect in our lives; we left the DH just in time to see Chester walking to his car where he offered to give us a ride when it was raining. By now you're probably thinking that this story is a happy one. WELL, it's not and you should probably be sitting down for the next part. Although, you're obviously sitting down right now because who goes on a computer while standing up? Anyways, we get in Chester's car and it was like there were fucking show tunes playing and all of us were singing along and loving life. We turn onto our street, Matt points out that there is a possum walking across the street and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">BAM</span>, Chester hits the possum with his car. Not such a big deal right? I mean, it's not like Chester hit this poor little possum on purpose. OH NO WAIT, HE DID! That's right folks, Chester is a possum killer. This murder happened so quickly; he sped up, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">swerved</span> to the left and then ran over the possum (which I named Ralph). I was in complete shock when this happened and never imagined that I would ever take part in the murder of an innocent animal. As we slowly drove away, I felt one tear roll down my cheek, but quickly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wiping</span> it away so the possum killer wouldn't see it. I then lectured Chester about killing a possum and told him that she/he was probably a mother/father going home to see their family. </span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Chester then proceeded to tell me about what they do to chickens in a slaughterhouse as if to defend what he had just done. Don't get me wrong, we all love Chester and everything but, after this, it's hard to trust a guy who killed a possum out of pleasure. We all went to see Ralph after we got out of the car, I brought a shovel and made Chester carry Ralph back to our house. I wanted to bury him but the ground was frozen and so, called the Humane Society the next morning for them to come pick Ralph up. I guess all I can say is that I wish I was drunk when all this happened so I didn't have this memory of the car driving over poor <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ralphy</span> and the bump that I felt when we ran him over. This moment in time will forever haunt me and the other occupants in the car that evening. The only advice I have for all of you is that even the nicest people can be possum killers so be careful who you get in a car with. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff99ff;">REST IN PEACE RALPH, YOU WILL BE MISSED. </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-56689391451566654872010-04-07T17:05:00.007-04:002010-07-06T23:47:50.687-04:00MEMORY LANE: ABSOLUT PEACH VODKA<strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">ABS</span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMrmEValcpjIw6kkmnTaunn-9vhVmDSW8b-2J_qgLEDH1TJiFE1rGwE81-ktIl4zomA7OcLLPpyB-eorHWFZEirE8A_NbFf91_nQ_N8De-WbEzXJCwMGY7sYakWKjXnmTgn42z6wwbkDZ/s1600/Absolut%2520Apeach.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 94px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457090375686611410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMrmEValcpjIw6kkmnTaunn-9vhVmDSW8b-2J_qgLEDH1TJiFE1rGwE81-ktIl4zomA7OcLLPpyB-eorHWFZEirE8A_NbFf91_nQ_N8De-WbEzXJCwMGY7sYakWKjXnmTgn42z6wwbkDZ/s320/Absolut%2520Apeach.jpg" /></span></strong></a><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">OLUT</span> PEACH VODKA: </span></strong><br /></span><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>When: </strong>October 2008<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Where</strong>: <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">WCH</span>/Terrace/Philip's/Literally all over <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">campus</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">One of the first times that I drank any kind of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Absolut</span> vodka was first year university. I wanted to branch out from my Smirnoff drinking days and since I love the taste of peaches, thought that this choice was the right one. This was one month after I turned nineteen, and me being me and being nineteen, I thought that was I allowed to do anything because of my age. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but come on, I was young and didn't know any better. So <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">anywhos</span>, the night I drank this a pretty memorable one and one of my favourite nights from first year. My roommate this year (Kristin) had two friends come up to visit her for the weekend. They all came over to my res room to drink and then we set out for a night out on the.... campus. See, only two of us were nineteen at the time and we didn't do the whole fake ID thing so we just had to make the best of our night without going to any bars or clubs (man, I miss those days... not). Our intention for leaving my room was to make it over to one of the other residences to visit their friend. Did we ever make it over there? Def not. While walking through campus, we made a bunch of friends, people I probably see all the time at school and do not remember them at all thanks to this vodka. We somehow managed to make it to Philip's that night? Don't ask me how hat happened, it just did. We never went inside but just hung around outside the building for awhile because that's what cool people do I guess. We went back on campus, walked in the middle of the road, also a thing that cool people do and then we got stopped by the Special Constables. Not going to lie, I thought it was the police and thought I was so tough talking to them. You're probably wondering why it's such a big deal that the SCs were talking to us. Well, we had water bottle/coffee mugs full of alcohol that we were drinking on our adventure. The cops, I mean Special Constable men asked us what was in our cups and these were our responses: </span><span style="font-family:Arial;">"juice", "gatorade", "rum and coke", "vodka". After hearing that two of us had alcohol in our cups, they were not pleased with us and said, "do you ladies know that it is a $300 fine to have open alcohol in public?" I replied with the line, "sir, it doesn't matter, I'm nineteen, I can drink wherever I want since I'm of legal drinking age." BAD MOVE ON MY PART. They told us to dump out our drinks in front of them and that they would let us off with a warning. Me, being drunk and stupid said, "can I chug the bottle instead of dumping it since that would be wasting alcohol." They just looked at each other, shook their heads and told me that defeated the whole purpose of this. THEN, I invited them back to my res room to continue drinking with us. Sadly, they declined my offer and then we chatted with them for a bit. The one officer actually went to my school and was so proud that he got a degree in Sociology. When he told me that, it was like it was from a movie. He was getting into the car, I yelled, "what did you come to Laurier for?" and he looked at me, proudly said, "Sociology" while nodding his head in approval. </span></span><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:Arial;">I found it amazing that he was now working as a Special Constable at the same school he got his degree. </span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">This encounter with these cops was a kind of wake up call for me and it was then that I realized that even though I was nineteen, I wasn't capable of doing anything that I pleased. However, being twenty, I now realize that THIS age is when I'm allowed to do whatever I want.</span> </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-66085508094682453972010-04-03T12:48:00.008-04:002010-04-03T23:36:45.027-04:00"CAN I BUY YOU LAST CALL?"<span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Holy crap, where to start with last night. I can honestly say that last night is up there with one of my favourite drunken nights. Just give me Green Day, dancing and Joe Dog's and I am the happiest girl of life. My friends and I decided to go to Joe Dog's last night because it is probably the greatest bar in the history of the world. Since the LCBO was closed yesterday, I didn't have any alcohol to drink before we went to the bar and so, had to "borrow" some from my parents. My mom told me to check the cupboard where she keeps all the alcohol and that is where I found this wine called<em> Baby Duck</em>. Now, this clearly would never be my first choice to drink but all the alcohol that my parents owned had been consumed by me over various holidays. I decided that I didn't want to spend a billion dollars at the bar so I would have to settle for this weird wine. As I was getting ready, I decided to down a cold shot which wasn't very cold at all. Warm beer + my dislike for beer = disgusting. We went to my friend's house to predrink and this is where things turned for the worst. I cracked open that bottle of <em>Baby Duck</em> and wasn't leaving until it was finished. I've said this before, I'm not a big wine drinker and that <em>Baby Duck</em> wine is the reason why. It wasn't THAT bad but I obviously would have preferred some rum over drinking something that has baby ducks in it. So we leave the house around eleven or so and get to my favourite place on earth, Joe Dog's. I can't even describe to you why I like this bar so much, it's just amazing. We all sit down, I order a double rum and coke, and then the rest of the night is a blur... I'm TOTALLY KIDDING. Last night was amazing, remember? So anyways, the combination of three rum and cokes + one bottle of wine + one cold shot + four shots (one being the waitress' choice) = an epic night. There was a band playing last night and I absolutely loved them. I requested Green Day, obviously and they played <em>She</em> which is one of my favourite songs by them. I must say, Lesley and I are amazing dancers and were actually the only ones on the dancefloor for most of the night. Kris10 and Marie did join us of a bit but it was mainly just her and I. After awhile, it was just me alone on the dancefloor and I still loved my life. They played Blink, Sublime, Kings of Leon.. just absolute amazingness coming from the speakers. My obsession with Green Day is just ridiculous... and it has been going on for so long. Every time the band was done playing a song I would yell "GREEN DAY" at the top of my lungs, wishing and hoping that they would play more Green Day. By the very end of the night, it was just me on the dancefloor and I felt a tap on my shoulder and this like at least sixty year old man standing behind me starting to dance. I was OBVIOUSLY down to dance with him since no one else wanted to get their groove on with me. So, we danced for one song and after it was over, my friends all wanted to leave. Me and my bf introduced ourselves to each other, can't remember his name for the life of me and he offered to buy me a drink... this is where I absolutely died. Never in my life has a sixty year old man offered to buy me a drink. This goes to show the type of people who hang out at Joe Dog's. After declining his offer (so sad), we waited outside for my brother to pick us up. He drove my friend Marie home and this is when I had to get out of the car to puke. He was pulled over on the side of the road, I lept out of the car and just let the grass have it. I felt amazing afterwards, don't get me wrong and the Kraft Dinner that we made when we got home did not help my condition. Kris10 slept over at my house, we Omegled for a bit, talked to some boy who pretended to be from Ireland, it was just superb. I really have nothing witty to say at the end of all this.... sooooo.... I love Green Day?</span><br /></span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-3285906282334685152010-04-01T22:33:00.006-04:002010-04-03T18:40:27.148-04:00I FORGOT IT WAS WEDNESDAY<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I was debating whether or not to write a blog about last night for two reasons: 1) we went to The Vault, a place I absolutely hate and after last night, I refuse to go there ever again and 2) I'm just insanely bitter about the whole Vault thing. I know starting this post off on a bad note is a downer but just thinking about this place makes me angry. I used to go there all the time last year with the girls from my floor, until Michelle and I were banned and since then, I've only been there twice. I must say, two times too many for my liking. I have legit reasons for hating this place and they are as follows:<br /><br />1) I was "banned" from there<br />2) Because of number one, that means the owners/bouncers are assholes<br />3) I was kicked out for talking to a mirror (another story for another time)<br />4) The layout of the club is absolutely ridiculous (let me expand on this one)<br /><br />Okay, so number four...<br />The dancefloor isn't even a dancefloor. At normal clubs, they have a separate place for the dancefloor, aka an ACTUAL dancefloor but here, they don't. Basically, you'll be dancing and people are pushing you out of their way because they're trying to walk by.<br /><br />I must say, I had a blast predrinking at the Vesia's house (we call our friends the Vesia's because that's the last name of one of the girl's who lives there). I drank my <em>Pink</em> wine, sang a little Gaga and went to.... The Vault. One of the guys who was predrinking with us gave us all tickets to get in for free but we didn't get there before eleven thirty so we couldn't use it. I was stoked when he gave me this card because I didn't want to give The Vault any of my money because I refuse to support them... in any way. However, my five dollar cover is the last thing they will ever be getting from me. I did enjoy the part of the night where I decided to take a stroll down Ezra in my pink homesack. For those of you who don't know what a homesack is, Google it. Just kidding, you won't find it on Google. Just picture a house coat with a zipper. Somehow I managed to do mine up when it was inside out. I can't believe how much I hate The Vault, I truly apologize for those of you who like The Vault but I have one question for all of you, WHY? Believe you me, this place ain't no Philip's, so don't plan on going there any time soon. </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-19500834470077109282010-03-31T19:22:00.003-04:002010-04-03T23:36:52.676-04:00TONIGHT'S ANTHEM<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_K9WtkPHrw&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L_K9WtkPHrw&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Let's be serious, there is no description needed for this video.</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-47789490818299708202010-03-31T16:28:00.002-04:002010-07-06T23:46:40.846-04:00ALCOHOL OF THE MONTH</a> <div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">I'm not much of a wine drinker but when I was presented with the opportunity to try my roommate's (Danielle) wine last year I said, "what the hay" and decided to try it. I must say, I've only had a few wines in my entire life but this one is my absolute favourite:</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"></span></div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig07xmBeeoFW2BYj6H8E2udOUIl4T1aHH9CWwKqVdX-Fb6zsTT05nsQXc8bOE1fb4GKnE86UvjqHoYNxwItEK_sCnnZY4uwF0NM4Z0i9NLPtXtUctzMoBzlwpZ8o2aSRoTw7a44MiNL0M3/s1600/img-thing.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454946566806958610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig07xmBeeoFW2BYj6H8E2udOUIl4T1aHH9CWwKqVdX-Fb6zsTT05nsQXc8bOE1fb4GKnE86UvjqHoYNxwItEK_sCnnZY4uwF0NM4Z0i9NLPtXtUctzMoBzlwpZ8o2aSRoTw7a44MiNL0M3/s320/img-thing.jpg" />
<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig07xmBeeoFW2BYj6H8E2udOUIl4T1aHH9CWwKqVdX-Fb6zsTT05nsQXc8bOE1fb4GKnE86UvjqHoYNxwItEK_sCnnZY4uwF0NM4Z0i9NLPtXtUctzMoBzlwpZ8o2aSRoTw7a44MiNL0M3/s1600/img-thing.jpg"><p></a></p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">It's called <em>Pink</em> by Yellowglen, don't ask me what Yellowglen is because I have absolutely no idea. To be honest, what got me was the presentation of the bottle; I mean, who wouldn't want to drink a wine with a name like that? It looks classy and sophisticated, things I like to think I am when I drink wine. It's a sparkling wine, I don't know what that means in the wine world but it tastes delicious. I give this wine an A for AMAZING.</span>
<br />ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-76425399476639351622010-03-30T20:23:00.006-04:002010-07-06T23:47:50.687-04:00MEMORY LANE: SMIRNOFF CITRUS VODKA<span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>SMIRNOFF CITRUS VODKA</strong>:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 110px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454588034913874002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVgCuiAO0kP0LoV5rWDBkhSAC3ropTbgr8ul9DouiW1SIJ4pD3pXENb9Ce1oR0MwtWWm_hndkuRUe8U87wSxg4zArYkTV49SOWV__5IQomNc-oM047ocMGVfAPuntdcgyzImmTVkxFg0Iz/s320/dsdfsdfsd.png" /></span> </span><div><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>When:</strong> September 26, 2009<br /><strong>Where:</strong> My house/Big Buck's</span> </span></div><div><span style="color:#ff99ff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Yah, Citrus vodka, I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking. I bought this a couple days after I turned nineteen because I wanted to change it up from the Strawberry and Watermelon vodka that I had been drinking since I was like eight years old. So it was a lovely Friday evening, I had my friends come over to celebrate my nineteenth birthday. Abby and I did shots of this nasty vodka like no tomorrow, like we were completely trashed and I loved every second of it. After predrinking for a bit, we went to Big Buck's for my very first time at a bar. I must say, my first experience at a bar was pretty epic. However, I lost my camera for a bit, which wasn't cool at all but we asked a couple bouncers until we asked the right one who had found it. We danced the night away, literally, like we only left the dancefloor to get more drinks and then we were right back there. Abby was dancing with the guy who need every single word to the song, "In the Ayer", it was pretty awesome. The dancefloor there is pretty cool, they have the actual dance floor and then a bunch of stairs up to the stage, the stage is where we spent a lot of our time. So all of us were dancing in a circle and this black guy wearing this white suit comes over and grabs Abby's hand to start dancing with her and she refused him. When he asked me to dance, I was obviously totally down for it because I love the black hotties, especially when they're classy in white suits. My friends told me not to go over there because, well, he was old but I didn't notice that until after I started dancing with him. I told him that I had to dance with him because he was the owner of the club and I wanted to get us free drinks. So, I danced with him for a bit and I guess I was starting to sober up or something because I realized how old he actually was. I decided that maybe dancing with this old black man wasn't the way I wanted to spend my birthday, especially since he wasn't the owner of any club. It must've been that white suit that fooled me because I have absolutely no idea where I got it in my head that he was the owner of the club. All I can really say now is that I wish someone had taken a picture of that moment in my life because I want to remember it forever and ever.... and ever.</span> </span></div>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-31931016759261302942010-03-28T22:36:00.006-04:002011-04-27T19:20:46.265-04:00ROCK THE CASBAH<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">Last night was my friend Michelle's birthday party. I decided to change it up a little and drink wine instead of what I usually drink: the leftover alcohol that people leave at our parties. So we start predrinking a little bit at my house and then make it over to Michelle's around eleven o'clock or so. We walk in the door, into the living room and BAM, it hits me: this is the most multicultural party I have ever been to. There were a bunch of black guys there (my fav, as you know) and we talked to this Spanish guy named Christian for most of the night who claimed he had drank one and a half 26s. Now, let's be serious Christian, I drank almost a whole 26 and almost died, I'm pretty sure you over exaggerated a little bit. So, after Christian spilled a shot of tequila all over my legs, I decided to stop talking to him and talk to the black hottie sitting next to me on the couch. We chatted for a bit, Christian interrupted us and tried convincing me that him and Matt (black hottie) were blood related. I may have been drunk but I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between a black man and not-so-black man, especially when one of them is claiming that they're brothers. Michelle, the birthday girl, was completely trashed, like I had never in my life seen her like this. Her ass made more of an appearance than anything else that night. After a while, we all decided to leave to go to the bar and ended up at the bar on campus at my school. Jen and I waited in line for about seven minutes, realized how amazing a pita would be at that point in time and left to get a pita. We made friends with the Pita Shack employee and bonded over our nose piercings. After getting out pitas, we started walking home and I got distracted by a bunch of people sitting near tents outside a residence. Jen and Kass, not impressed with our pit stop, kept walking home and left me there. I started chatting up the people outside the tents, they were there for some reason, I can't remember what but I asked them if they needed donations, decided that instead of going into my purse and getting money, I just threw my purse at them and told them they could have all the money in there. Of course, being good Laurier citizens, seeing how drunk I was, gave back my purse without taking any money from me. So, I started walking home, fell once... or twice.... and then made it home to eat my delicious pita. I guess it's kind of depressing that we drank three nights in a row, and didn't even make it out to a bar for more than an hour. That's okay, I'm sure the owners of Four Seasons and Pita Shack love our business.</span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884406305244623979.post-9633206269817399062010-03-27T18:24:00.002-04:002010-03-31T16:25:51.552-04:00FRIDAY NIGHT MADNESS<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;">So only one word can sum up the events that occurred last night: RIDICULOUS... just complete ridiculousness. For the most part, it was a pretty fun night, mainly because I ended up getting pizza and Omegling with Fiona. The entire night is mostly a blur, and I feel like I say that all the time on here when I write these things, but it's true. I was down in our basement for most of the night, until I came upstairs to Jen bitching at some guy telling him to leave our house because was being rude. Honestly, I was so rattled by that and I'm pretty sure that Jen has the power to kick anyone out of a house (she's scary in that way). Near the end of the night, a bunch of my friends were going to Philip's and tried getting me to go with them but all that multi coloured rum had gotten to my head (for some reason, my 26 of rum turned from clear to this weird greeny/pinky colour.. don't ask me how that happened). After the party starting dying out, around three o'clock or so, I went downstairs to see if anyone was down there and noticed that my iPod was missing from the iPod dock that plays our music. I started looking around for it and gave up because I realized that I was far too drunk to be looking for a missing iPod. In the morning, we cleaned up (after going to Benny's for a delicious breakfast) and that is when I came to terms with the fact that someone stole my iPod. I had absolutely no idea that we invited criminals to our party and I'm still pissed the guy with the shaved head and ten cases of beer stole my iPod. Not only was my iPod stolen, Steph's cell phone was stolen also. In the words of my eleven year old brother, "this really grinds my gears." And so, my advice to all of you, if someone comes into your house looking like a criminal, they probably are so get Jen to kick them out. </span>ccmhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12527469596304257177noreply@blogger.com0