Friday night Lance and I went to Club Jackson for a little homemade dinner and a casual evening in with just a few friends (mixed company-boys, girls, gays, straights). By 3:00 in the morning, it was clear the 'quiet night in" plan had been wrecklesly abandoned. If it's not a party until something gets broke, it was a party around midninght.
Early in the evening I asked for a pad to take notes for the blog. Without backstory or context, here are some of my overheards:
"If you are too drunk to get the cheese on your cracker, you're in trouble."
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"I don't want kids."
"Wait 'til you hit 30. You'll want kids."
"I want kids. Specifically, I want that 22-year-old kid in the Abercrombie & Fitch ad."
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"I'm thinking of having some sort of topless knitting contest party. You only have so much time to knit something to cover yourself. Then there is the challenge of knitting something large enough to cover yourself in the time provided, but not with such an open weave that you can see the nipples or poke through."
"I can imagine being the proctor of this test. At the end of the time I'd have to say, 'needles down.'"
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"Wilson, you always have to cross that line."
"You know why I'm always over the line? On my side of the line: there's a bar."
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"What happened to my bra? I had it on earlier."
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"Did you know that Lynda Carter did porn before Wonder Woman? She did! I swear! My dad had the beta!"
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"How did I show up with pork chops and salad fixings and end up out of my pants?"
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"Whose bracelet is this?" She asks as applying it to her wrist.
"Uh, Honey? That's a snap-on cock ring."
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And one really too inappropriate for blogging quote in the comments. Not my fault if you're offended.
1 comment:
Says the bisexual: "It's so much harder to get a girl to come. But it's worth it when she squirts on you."
Okay- two things: (1) Ew. and (2) and they say I cross the line?
And for good measure, Ew again.
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