burzuaz (![[info]](http://klab.lv/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} burzuaz) rakstīja,@ 2009-01-18 17:59:00 |
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On being a chaperone at my sister's 21st birthday...
Despite my constant condemnation of D.C. week-nights, Sunday morning rolled in to find me drunk and on a dance floor, a cranberry-vodka in one hand and my boyfriend's luscious little ass in the other. Factor in a mess of sequins, a pair of 3" heels and one DJ with a penchant for only the most God-awful pop-music to ever pollute this Earth, and what you get is me...the biggest damn hypocrite on the East Coast. So, the next time that I feel inclined to cast stones at "those D.C. skanks", I will recall my sister's 21st birthday (and the subsequent vomit hurled forth in public bathrooms) and resign myself to throwing only very small stones. Because I have waded in the waters of supreme skankdom...and found them to be surprisingly pleasant. Puke-filled endings aside, the majority of the evening was ridiculously fun. Jon is a foxy little bitch on the dance floor and an absolute sweetheart when it comes to tucking drunk little girls back into their beds. (The exact mechanics of how I exited D.C. and ended up in Jon's bed are shrouded in mystery. My sister - who arguably fared the worst of our group - remains similarly perplexed by her own unconscious departure.) Accompanied by a raging hangover, I had to drag my pathetic little carcass back to the car around 10:00a; the sibling and I were due at our parent's house - 80 miserable miles South - that afternoon. And - dear God - was our drive back to the homestead one of the most unpleasant 1.5 hours of my life. Both parents appeared amused by the sight of their ugly, ugly daughters, and - to my matchless delight - Dad insisted that Kat was the grosser of us two. Hah! Photographic evidence of this debauchery is limited, but here's an endearing image of Jon, taking a bite out of my face. I appear to be enjoying it. Impromptu cannibalism is so sexy.Edit (Further Evidence of Skankery): During his shift tonight, Jon's supervisor kept teasing him about the two of us going at it on the hood of some anonymous sports car on Saturday. Christ...I had completely forgotten about that. Said car was parked directly outside of The Diner and we were commended for our performance (limited to PG-13, thankfully), as witnessed by both wait-staff and customers. Sigh.
Despite my constant condemnation of D.C. week-nights, Sunday morning rolled in to find me drunk and on a dance floor, a cranberry-vodka in one hand and my boyfriend's luscious little ass in the other. Factor in a mess of sequins, a pair of 3" heels and one DJ with a penchant for only the most God-awful pop-music to ever pollute this Earth, and what you get is me...the biggest damn hypocrite on the East Coast. So, the next time that I feel inclined to cast stones at "those D.C. skanks", I will recall my sister's 21st birthday (and the subsequent vomit hurled forth in public bathrooms) and resign myself to throwing only very small stones. Because I have waded in the waters of supreme skankdom...and found them to be surprisingly pleasant. Puke-filled endings aside, the majority of the evening was ridiculously fun. Jon is a foxy little bitch on the dance floor and an absolute sweetheart when it comes to tucking drunk little girls back into their beds. (The exact mechanics of how I exited D.C. and ended up in Jon's bed are shrouded in mystery. My sister - who arguably fared the worst of our group - remains similarly perplexed by her own unconscious departure.) Accompanied by a raging hangover, I had to drag my pathetic little carcass back to the car around 10:00a; the sibling and I were due at our parent's house - 80 miserable miles South - that afternoon. And - dear God - was our drive back to the homestead one of the most unpleasant 1.5 hours of my life. Both parents appeared amused by the sight of their ugly, ugly daughters, and - to my matchless delight - Dad insisted that Kat was the grosser of us two. Hah! Photographic evidence of this debauchery is limited, but here's an endearing image of Jon, taking a bite out of my face. I appear to be enjoying it. Impromptu cannibalism is so sexy.Edit (Further Evidence of Skankery): During his shift tonight, Jon's supervisor kept teasing him about the two of us going at it on the hood of some anonymous sports car on Saturday. Christ...I had completely forgotten about that. Said car was parked directly outside of The Diner and we were commended for our performance (limited to PG-13, thankfully), as witnessed by both wait-staff and customers. Sigh.
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