Virtual connections.

This someecard was posted on No Romo's wall by Novel Girl. Blogging has made me even more virtually obsessed with the interweb, and I am loving the connections that have been made as a result. After the Only the strong survive post, Novel Girl and No Romo engaged in a comment war on my blog that led to gchatting, facebooking and (the more intimate) bbming. They pretty much go back and forth arguing about who is more awesome. I have modest friends, clearly. Successful virtual connection #1.

ME, one of male readers in Chicago, questioned me about the identity of Kitty-Cat... I let him do some detective work on my fb page. Once he figured it out, he friended her (sidenote: the word friend is now not only a noun, but a verb too!) because he wanted to become acquainted with the "star" of my blog. Quality creepin. She accepted and they partook in some friendly fb banter. Successful virtual connection #2.

While these new virtual connections excite me, I find a great deal of comfort in reconnecting with old friends in the digital world. AA (no, he is not a recovering alcoholic) and I have known each other since 5th grade when we were in Project Search together, a program for the gifted and talented (ha!). We even went to the same college. AA is brilliant; in the top ten of our graduating class. He possesses a plethora of knowledge on politics, history, economics- all my strong suits. Pssshhh. Normally, I might feel inferior in the presence of such intelligence. AA, however, also shares my passion for people (interesting, creative, talented, ambitious types), music (think indie and classic rock) and life, so we get along remarkably. Our current connection is virtual. While I remain a resident of the Ocean State, he has moved on to the Big Apple. He is one of my favorite sporadic gchat buddies, and it thrills me to know that he is an avid follower of my blog. He recently sent me a random message saying "i love your blog. such a fun writing style... it's easy to read, candid, assertive, unapologetic. but technically sound." Hellooooo ego boost. Thanks AA. Reviews like those are what keep me blogging :) You should all make a point to check out his blog, it is phenomenal. Today's post will be of particular interest to you daily desk dwellers and fans of internet streaming music.

On a fairly unrelated note, AA sent me this photo of Warwick Mall after discussing the insane flooding little Rhody has been experiencing over the past couple days. This is no joke.

Time to dry up RI. Bring on the sunshine for the holiday weekend!!

Meet J Legs. She is one smitten kitten.

Ok. Mi madre reads my blog. She thinks I'm hilarious but that I often overshare. She was a little perturbed after reading about hot pocket penetration. Sorry ma, I will try to refrain from using that vocab in the future. I don't want to disappoint you... girl. This post will be more PG-13 and less NC-17. To all you dirty birds that follow, I will apologize ahead of time.

I am one lucky little girl. Novel girl says she's lucky she is pretty. I say I'm lucky to be have interesting people in my life who inspire me, make me laugh, and most of all, love me in spite of my word vomit and ridiculous behavior. If I was REALLY lucky, I would live in close proximity to all of them and we could play frequently. Unfortunately, many of my loves are dispersed throughout the concrete jungle, beantown and the windy city, and our contact is limited to social networking, digital chatting, and semi-annual get-togethers. I am eternally grateful for technology.

J Legs is one of my sisters. Yes, believe it or not, I was a sorority girl, and I made lasting friendships amidst the nonsense of living with 30+ girls. She and I share a special bond ;) I am very excited to report that my J Legs is in a fairly new and exciting relationship after being stuck in a rut in her last long-term relationship and finally getting out. Last week she wanted some advice on wearing a lingerie number for her man (yes boys, we like to play dress up. you need to let us know that we are sexy all the time so we do not feel foolish doing so). So the plan was to be wearing this number while cooking dinner for him when he showed up at her place. Plan backfired when his friend joined him in the city and the home cooked meal was postponed. While chatting with J Legs on Sunday and begging for the scoop, she let me know that the "surprise" didn't happen... but something so much better did!!

Her boy dropped the L-BOMB.
"I want to say something and I don't want you to say anything back." -J's Boy
(I tell her I swear this is a line from a movie. She is a hopeless romantic and ate it up anyway.)
J is one smitten kitten. I am thrilled for her.
He went on to say, "You are the most amazing girl I have ever met. I am so lucky."
Cheers to you, J Legs!

What you should take from this story:

While stories of being single and free to mingle are fun and exciting to write about, love stories are uplifting. As cynical as I may seem sometimes, I am still a firm believer in love and the notion that there is someone out there for all of us, and when you find them, you just know.

Love. actually. is. all. around. It makes you silly and crazy happy. It makes people around you happy too. Spread the love kids. If you love someone, let them know.

No Shame in the Game.

Two summers ago, I lived in an apartment above a bar in downtown Newport. Needless to say, this was a drunken summer for me. I had a couple of weak moments and let a relentless Young Boy penetrate my hot pocket. He had been blatantly asking to make out with me since he was 19 or 20 (his father owns a local watering hole that I used to frequent). I gave in that summer (he was 21 at the time). We had two, maybe three, fun nights together and then I was over his immaturity.
This YB still has absolutely NO shame in his game. It is horrifying sometimes. Around the new year, he told me I was on his 2010 "to-do list." I mean, seriously!? It has been TWO YEARS since homeboy has been near my lower manhattan. All of his texts and fb chats do, however, provide me with comic relief. Take, for instance, our correspondence just yesterday...

FB chatting around 8 p.m.
Me: What are you doing tonight?
YB: Pop for a reggae show. Then creepin by your apt.
Me: Pop sounds fun. Maybe we will swing by there before On the Rocks (notice I ignore creepin remark).
YB: I better see you there.

Stream of texts beginning at 1:13 a.m.
YB: what happened to u?
Me: I was at on the rocks. how was pop?
YB: real fun. let's hang.
YB: ?
Me: $ (Kitty-Cat thought that would be a funny response)
YB: what the hell is that
YB: ?
Me: Goodnight
YB: i hate u

Hahahaha. Maybe this will tone down his persistence. Hey Gen-Y boys, newsflash- chivalry is not dead! Stop being such creeps.

Coon Dawg strikes again.

Visits from Kitty-Cat's BFF Coon Dawg are always a good time. Last night we were blessed with her presence. Let me start off by stating facts: CD is a knockout. CD is often hard to understand when drinking because all of her words mesh together and she sounds like she has marbles in her mouth. CD does not photograph well, which is kind of comical, because she really is gorgeous. New post-college fact about CD: she is a lightweight.

Now it's story time...
Rewind to 2008. Coon Dawg is here for a weekend visit. Kitty-Cat and I both had to work during the day on Saturday, so she is left with MM to day drink. Apparently they killed one too many bottles of champagne and KC comes home to one sloppy Coon. We already had plans to get down at Studio that evening, so I arrive at KC's around 9 and CD is comatose on her bed in nothing but a towel (another fact: she frequently takes showers while heavily intoxicated). We assume she is there to stay, and then.... she rises from the dead demanding help applying makeup and getting dressed- she wants to go out, and there's not arguing with her. I do my best lining and shadowing her lids while she sways back and forth. Not sure how she didn't get herself kicked out of the Stud that night, but here she is taking a snooze in between sipping vodka and grinding...

We were not Dominoes fans yet back in 08, so the pit stop before home was Via Via. CD manged two slices of buff chix in seconds and the end result was a face full of blue cheese dressing. I mean, I'm surprised Art Smart and I did not pee our pants (this behavior was nothing new to Kitty-Cat, who witnessed plenty of it in college). I WISH I had documented that image on camera.

Fast forward to present day. Us gals sipped some bubbly last night at the humble abode before heading out for a drink at Pier, where the age demographic was 50-75. We quickly relocated to, wait for it, ON THE ROCKS (which was jammin, btw- place is blowing up) to meet up with all the creeps. Coon Dawg went from zero to hero in a matter of moments. One second she was shimmy pointing to "I wanna dance with somebody" and the next she morphed into a ping pong ball, bouncing around in our circle of dancin fools. I have no recollection of this, but apparently CD ate shit last night and took Kitty-Cat down with her. At that point, she needed to be put to bed so we left our basement haven until next time.

This morning, Coon Dawg says she definitely can't stay another night and reflects on her blackout tendencies: "I can't break up with Ken Doll because I clearly can't hang for a whole weekend. I need to start smoking pot again. I act more normal because I'm so paranoid. By the way, I ate pot brownies the other day." "With your mom?" -KC "Surprisingly, no. I was a total giggle monster though and ended up leaving everyone and running home." -CD

Ahhhh, priceless. Anxiously awaiting her next visit.

Come to bed red.

That would be the kinky name of my nail color pictured above (how bout those fat boy hands? hot stuff, I know). For several years now, I have been extremely curious about the creative minds behind clever names such as You don't know Jacques, Eiffel for this color, and Linkin Park after Dark. I'm convinced that I would be a phenomenal assest to the team at Essie, OPI, or my new obsession, butter. It would be a chance for me to put my creepy photographic memory to good use! Right now the only thing it is useful for is remembering names (even ones that I stumble upon while facebook stalking... not exactly a universally accepted talent). If anyone has any connections in the nail polish industry, tell them you know a girl who would be just right for the job.

Speaking of facebook creeping, I did something a little stalkerific (for me) this week. BR mentioned that a cute boy she went to college with recently moved to Newport and that we would get along famously. I proceed to scope him out on the book (got attractiveness approval from Kitty-Cat) and send him a friendly message inviting him to meet us out for a drink this weekend. After I hit send, panic set in. Rejection hurts. But guess what?! Surfer B did not disappoint- responded within the hour, and he seemed genuinely happy to hear from me and gave me his digits. Success! I didn't text him until about 11 last night when we headed out so he wasn't able to meet up, but I have a feeling I will be hearing from him this week...

Morning glory.

While I struggle to remember and document all that ensued during Chi Girl's visit, I would like to share some updates from my girls that I received this morning.

Via phone call from Reef Rider...
"I accidently got hammered last night and went home with Aging Barowner. He couldn't get it up. FML." -RR
"What did his body look like?" -Me
"I don't know, I was blackout and when I left this morning it was dark. Couldn't find my underwear but I didn't want to turn on the light for two reasons: didn't want to see his body and didn't want him to see the bruises on mine." -RR
"What is wrong with me lately? I'm so horny and I can't get laid." -RR
"I'm going to stay in and detox until Memorial Day. I need to pull it together." -RR

Via gchat with Novel Girl...
"Do you think it's weird that the guy I'm slaying is in a meeting with my dad right now? And that I drove him here this morning?"

More about Novel Girl...
Her gchat status, which I happen to LOVE: "It's not really the people that you let into your vagina that can hurt you. It's the people you let into your heart."
Passionate Professor has not been an active participant on her fb wall lately, and we are all little nervous. Regretting his drunk word vomit via fb message? Novel Girl is going to attempt to rekindle the flame by reaching out to him on his bday Friday.

BR is a buff babe.

My girl BR is hardcore about working out. Like obsessed. Wish I possessed an ounce of her motivation and dedication. She is super active- skiing, running, lifting and handstanding are a few of her favorite pasttimes. Her and her man are doing this crossfit plan (sorry boys, she is spoken for). Anyway...that is her rockin bod doing a handstand in the upper lefthand corner on Narragansett beach. Check out the link to enlarge the image.

Why take a break from blogging about the weekend for this bit, you ask? Because like I keep saying, talent and passion really knock me out. Duh.

Part Two of the Weekend Update: 24 hour Whirlwind with Chi Girl.

I have given you a taste of Chi Girl's personality with the story of Daring Dilf Doc, but even a word-lover like myself cannot begin to describe her fully. I arrived at hometown casa de Chi Girl around noon (still hungover) and had a FANTASTIC conversation with her mom while waiting for her to get ready. We were discussing CG's strong desire to marry a rich Jew. Mom refers to them in general as "wimpy men who are coddled by their mothers" and Israeli Jews as "arrogant f**ks." Keep in mind she is Jewish herself, but opted to marry an Irish man, then an Italian. Funny thing is, I seem to have acquired a strange affinity for Jews. Helllloooo Seth Rogen. Ha.

CG, J.Crew Gal (CG's best friend from childhood) and I head to Prov to enjoy the sunshine and block party festivities. We make our way to Murphy's beer tent to meet up with EG boys and get acquainted with Ponytail Girl (who, in keeping with the theme, happens to be Jewish and who I would very quickly develop a girl crush on). It didn't take long before we hopped on the day-drinking band wagon. During our outdoor circle time, we notice a guy lying on the sidewalk, passed out with a beer next to him and his fly unzipped. Feast your eyes on this visual.

Crazy paranoid waitress felt the need to get the po-pos involved. Calm down girl, he's breathing! Homeboy just needed a snooze. The corrupt cops come along and engage the now large group of onlookers, Pig #1: "Nothing to see here, folks!" Pig #2: "What team does he play for?" (For those of you who are unaware, NCAA tournament was going on that day). The kid wakes up and says, "I was tired. Worked the late shift at the Biltmore." Amazing. Ponytail Girl recognizes him as a valet boy. Po-pos send him on his way.

A little while later, we decide to relocate for some lunch at Bravo. On the walk over, Chi Girl and I lag behind at Trinity because she is in Guido Heaven (side note: CG pumped me up to hang out with "elite italians" this weekend... never happened. see Chi Girl does not attract Shy Guys for a reference to her severe ADHD).

Things get silly and a little blurry at lunch... Chi Girl providing a comedy routine for the table as usual. Side conversation with my great friend Sweater Boy got interesting when he provided me with a fork and knife simulation on how to master the "mandy9" (I will not explain this move due to the fact that my mother reads my blog and she already has been exposed to more than her little heart desires).

I don't think I can get into details on the evening without incriminating/upsetting anyone. Just know that we all got a little wild, I took my first motorcycle ride (the leather jacket I was sporting/wine I was consuming gave me courage), and we got driven home by a Giant Ginger who carried me like a sack of potatoes after my feet stopped working at McFadden's. Giant Ginger also crashed with us at Chi Girl's so he didn't have to drive back to Beantown.

CG's Stepdad in the morning: "Whose Jeep is that?"

CG: "Giant Ginger. We didn't want him driving back to Boston last night."

Stepdad leaves room.

CG to mom: "Is he pissed?"

Mom: "I don't know... he doesn't do well with strangers. In his house."

Stay tuned for a photo sampling as soon as Chi Girl provides me with them...

Basement Dwellers.

This weekend was epic. I truly feel blessed to have such wonderful people in my life that keep me laughing, guessing and constantly entertained. The weekend update will be delivered in two posts as to not lose the attention of my readers.

FRIDAY NIGHT

Friendly giraffes Dinky Lover and Egg Monster are in town to visit. Chowe, Reef Rider and Kitty-Cat are on board for a night of fun and we all rendezvous at my place around 10 for some pre-game bubbly and brews before heading out on the town. For those of you readers unfamiliar with our city by the sea, the nightlife options are limited. We decide to get a martini at Christie's before heading to On the Rocks (see You can't rain on our parade).

Christie's: Usual Newport suspects in attendance, including our favorite dumps DJ SB, DWD, Big Mac and JD. Reef Rider orders me a Ketel dirty martini. I now remember why I stopped drinking those bad larrys on Martini Mondays in my early twenties. They might as well be called blackout bombs. They make me a little crazy. Egg crushed his martini in milliseconds and demanded that we get a move on. "This place is way too classy/upscale for me. I feel uncomfortable. Let's go somewhere grimy." My friends are so T. Needless to say, we were quickly up and out of there and en route to our favorite underground paradise.

On the Rocks: This is where shit got weird. At first, we were yet again dominating the dance floor until some potentially professional strippers took over the pole. Wild. The giraffes started throwing dolla dolla bills y'all and Dinky went as far to toss his belt, phone and wallet on the floor. We were all cuttin up the rug by the tank and pole in style when Kitty-Cat's YB entered the basement. This is prob when her martini blackout set in because next thing you know she had homeboy pinned against the wall, making out remy's style yet again. Pretty sure somewhere around this time, Egg was trying to creep on Reef Rider right before she Newport-ditched to get some bruises from Meathead Babydaddy. Sometime in between sucking face sessions, YB says to KC, "I can't picture you working with kids. Like, what do you wear?" Bahahaaha. YB's friend gets my number and it seems like they want to hang out based on review of his texts the next morning. My responses, however, made no sense and he actually called me a "hater." This is why I can't date boys born after 1986.

Home Sweet Home by 1:30ish. Kitty-Cat order two large pizzas (anyone surprised?) and face plant in my bed. Kitty-Cat is running around kitchen with left over sghetti dish which results in an angel hair shower for the couch. In an attempt to pick her up and put her to bed, the giraffes knock over a bamboo plant and glass shatters everywhere. What... a bunch of train wrecks.

Potentially my favorite part of this debauchery was our early morning recap/dance party. I woke up to find an Egg Monster snuggled next to me in bed (roller skates hanging off the end). Kitty-Cat and Dinky Lover enter around 8:30am with wine glasses of H2O and "I don't see nothin wrong with a little bump and grind" blasting from the kitchen. We all move to the living room to rehash the evening and watch Dinky perform some lip-synching and broom guitaring for our viewing pleasure (think Eric Hutchinson, Billy Joel, Paul Simon). Dinky's comment in reference to Kitty-Cat's YB, "Tell him I thought he was great in the Mighty Ducks." KC can't seem to find her cell phone so we call from mine. It's in the silverware drawer- no big deal. Before showering and getting ready for the next 24 hours I would spend with Chi girl (!), Egg shares a lovely reflection with me, "I only go to bars with stripper poles."

I think I will end on that note.

Reef Rider is WILD.

My girl Reef Rider is a rare breed of females. Her outlook on sex is similar to that of a horny teenage boy. She wants it all the time and makes no apologies about being a sexual deviant. She puts it all out there and I respect her for that. She is one of kind. Men loooove Reef Rider, especially the meaty types and dirty old men (I spent several summers working with her behind the bar at a country club- we were quite the dynamic duo). It was only a matter of time before she made it into the blog. She spews more sexual word vomit than any woman I know. A few friends/followers have referred to me as the next Carrie Bradshaw (HUGE compliment kids, and greatly appreciated). That being said, if I am Carrie, she is without a doubt Samantha. Allow me to shower you with a few recent lines from Reef Rider...

"We need to have a dinner and dildos date immediately. My vibrator is losing steam."

"I could really use a steady cock in my life..."

"I used to masturbate and put a vibrator in my ass at the same time. It. Was. Amazing. Most intense orgasm ever."

"I think he may have a case of pencil dick. If you have a pencil dick you should do us girls a favor and jump off a bridge."

In our 5 years of friendship, she has shared a plethora of outlandish stories with me. She continues to shock me and have me in stitches almost on a daily basis. There is plenty more to be said about this wild child. I will keep you posted on whether or not this "dinner and dildos date" happens. Kitty-Cat and I have a little deal in the works involving toys...

Good news for my brain AND my hot pocket.

This month's Glamour mentions that a recent study found that fantasizing about sex boosts analytical thinking skills. I like this.

For more fun stuff about sex, love and life check out this link http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life. Info about Jesse James' apology to my girl Sandra (bastard), 12 things guys wish we knew in bed (interesting), and how to wow him in one date (obvious stuff, Jake).



Pumped up for this weekend. VERY exciting visitors :)

Only the strong survive.

You kids remember my tall dark and handsome friend who likes to hibernate? I'm going to refer to him as No Romo from here on out. He admits to being shallow and judgmental and I respect that about him. While gchatting today, he showered me with insults. My genius rebuttal was, "it's a good thing I have thick skin. there is no way you are this mean to other girls." Here is the word vomit he spewed as a result of that comment:

No Romo: yeah i am
why do you think i hibernate and don't date much
my dating skills are Darwinian where only the strong survive
but evolution of my personality eventually kills them off and then whoever the next person they date seems so great that they get engaged and married
i'm vital to the dating lives of others
i move the process forward

Wow. At least something positive is born from his sick self-absorption. And I choose to remain friends with him. Does this make me a masochist?

Chi Girl does not attract Shy Guys.

Truthfully, I have no idea why Chi girl is not already a recurring character in my silly little blog. She is one of my best friends and by far one of the most hysterically entertaining people I know. She needs to write a memoir. It would be #1 on the NY Times bestseller list without a doubt. Her severe ADHD and balancing work/play/travel gets in the way of her sitting down to undergo such a feat. One day I will drug her and force her into a padded room to make this happen. Back story before I give you a glimpse into her daily life: She is in pharmaceutical sales and happens to be a fox.

Today, after leaving a meeting with one of her doctors, he follows her into the parking lot (btw, he is married with a child). Chi Girl's description of him: "Balding with shirt unbuttoned to expose chest hair and gold star of david on chain. Quintessential Russian Jew. He is a stellar being."

Daring Dilf Doc: "Chi girl, wait up. I have to ask you a personal question but I don't want to get slapped."

Chi girl takes a step back to ensure she is more than an arm's length away.

DDD: "I'm going to be alone this weekend. Wanted to see if you wanted to hang out."

CG: "I'm going to be in RI visiting my mom."

DDD: "That's too bad. There's this great place I've been wanting to take you. You've been in my thoughts if you know what I mean" (squeezes her arm).

Hellloooo sexual harassment. Best part is, as she is is on the phone with me seeking consolation, she gets cat calls from a bunch of Mexican teenagers. "Damn girl you fine! Look at that thick ass!" Her response, "Thanks, but I'm white, and thick is not a compliment."

DDD didn't stop at that interaction. Sent Chi Girl a text less than 1/2 hour later that read, "Have a safe trip. Enjoy your visit ;) was hoping to get a chance to spend some time with you. Bad timing. Did not have your number to ask about your plans. Hope you don't mind my interest."

Yowsers.

Stalkerific.

One of my favorite dumpy guy friends has been following avidly and wants to be blogged about. While he is extremely funny (witty, ironic and acerbic-my kind of humor), there hasn't been any recent incidences in his life that have inspired me to write. Until this weekend. I'm going to refer to him as DJ Slumpbuster.

I think I will explain his pseudonym before getting into what went down on Friday night. Every summer, a bunch of us get wild for a weekend in Block Island on Deadweight Dump's parents' 48 ft sea ray. DJ SB took on the role of deejay on the boat ride over and he succeeded in amping us all up for a stellar weekend. MJ, The Roots, Marley, Kanye, Stevie Wonder. Got all of us shakin our tailfeathers between swigs of BL smoothies.

Most of the dumps at Springhouse, BI '09

Now on to the second half of his name. DJ SB was in a 3 year relationship that came to a sad screeching hault shortly after they moved in together. Poor guy has to move back in with his rents, whom he refers to as "the roommates." After many nights of masturbation and no lady love, he gets lucky a few months post break-up. With a college porker he referred to as his slumpbuster. No exchange of numbers. Just pure, unadulterated casual sex. Way to go, girl.

Alas, this brings me to Friday night. Kitty-Cat and I stayed in to prepare for Saturday's festivities while the boys opted to go out and creep. They followed a group of girls from one bar to the next, dancing and engaging in friendly banter. The night ends, girls and boys go their separate ways. Fast forward to Monday afternoon. DJ SB is on spring break from law school in South Carolina and he receives a phone call from his grandmother. Sidenote: He is a third, and both his father and grandfather live in the same town as he does. So grandma says that some mail has come to the house and she thinks it might be for him. Should she open it and read it to him? Suurrrree. Here is what it read, verbatim.

"Dear DJ Slumpbuster,

This is one of the strangest thing I've done, but I hope you are flattered and not freaked out. My friends and I met you and your friends on Friday night in Newport. We went to use the bathroom and then you guys were gone. I wanted to give you my number _______. Give me a call if you want. If not, this will make for a good story to tell your friends.

Sasha Fierce"

No return address. Wow. Sasha Fierce took stalking to a whole new level. Has she not been introduced to the wonderful world of facebook where stalking is encouraged?! Who sends snail mail anymore? And when was the last time you opened a telephone book?? All she knew about DJ SB was his name and the town he lived in. What... a freakshow. You might want to change the name of your alter ego, B.

You can't rain on our parade.

Saturday's weather was far from ideal. This did not prevent hundreds of locals from sporting green gear and participating in some serious day drinking. My entire day cannot be blogged about- there was far too much T nonsense involved. I will, however, provide you with a synopsis to the best of my ability (times are approximate).

12pm: Jello shots to wet the palette. Water bottles of vodka oj and soda water in tow. Rain boots on for the trek to the fifth ward.

1:30pm: Water bottle tossed in trashed and girls admitted into OBs sans cover charge. Spotted Grudge-holding Giraffe (to clarify: this is NOT my favorite giraffe on roller-skates) in the outside tent. Kitty-Cat spots her giving death stares and overhears her say "I don't like that girl." She looks GHG in the eye and says "You're annoying." Way to have my back, kitty-cat. Side note: GHG is still sad about a silly incident involving her ex-boyfriend and a late night telephone call that occurred circa 2006. Get over it girl.

2:30pm: We make our way inside and share some laughs with some gansett boys. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Sweet Valley High Twins basically swallowing some tasty looking hot dogs whole. Dogs are my weakness. Kitty-Cat, CF and I beeline it to the bar and my YB bartender friend hooks us up with 3 yummy dogs. Healthy choice #1 of the day. After a brief dance party/sing-a-long/photo shoot with Art Smart, our pack of pretty ladies are on to the next one.

4ish pm: Completely lost concept of time at this point. At dockside now and we have lost the SVH Twins (there was some misunderstanding involving the cover charge that led to beer tears. my beer tears would come later). Some genius decided to paint the floors red using water-based paint so all the patrons' shoes are covered in paint. Good thing everyone is too blackout to be concerned. I'm happy as a clam to see my girl Reef Rider (more about her to come) behind the bar getting hit on by every creep in the building. Highlight of Dockside experience: my first bar fight. Kitty-Cat is almost comatose as she walks by some angry broad who apparently spilled her drink on Kitty-Cat (all I witnessed was KC dumping her entire Ketel soda on this girl's dome). What transpired was a lot of flailing arms and me boxing crazy girl out with my badonkadonk. End result: fat lip for Kitty-Cat.

5:30pm: Kitty-Cat and I Newport-ditch it out of Dockside and schlep it down Thames in the downpour, making a pit stop at the pier for a lap around the bar and then at pizza hollywood for a slice dowsed in parm. Healthy choice #2. I get a call from Deadweight Dump and DJ Slumpbuster. We meet them at Pelham and dance around like the creeps that we are until my abnormally tall bouncer friend says we have to scoot, they are closing the bar for an hour clean-up.

7pm: The four of us make our way to Jimmy's in hopes to reconnect with Art Smart and her man for a little Ravers dance party. We are too late. Ravers set is over, AS has moved on to another venue. We decide it would be a fantastic idea to shake what our mamas gave us at On the Rocks. For those of you who are unaware of this fine establishment, it a "club" located in the basement of bar, complete with a DJ, stripper pole and dark lighting. This would be our sixth and final bar of the day. The four of us made up 50% of the patrons and we got DOWN with the lovely gal you see pictured below. I have been called a chubby chaser, and we all know DWD digs a large body type. Big Mama was happy to be alive. While grinding on the pole with her, I told her that I liked her energy and asked to photograph her. Yum, look at that meaty arm.

9pm: Kitty-Cat takes a snooze in a chair, wakes up abruptly, calls me boring and demands I take her to another bar. I deny this request, bring the boys to the frat house and make KC order a large cheese and cinnastix on the way home. T. Healthy choice #3.

11pm: After woofing 2 slices and a few stix, the food coma sets in. My sleep is distrubed by a figure in front of the couch grabbing my leg. I forgot to lock the door and DWD thought it would be a brilliant idea to leave DJ SB at the bar and run the 2 miles to my apt. He is whining about being soaked, removes his pants and faceplants next to me on the couch.

Overall, I would say the day was a disgusting success. See you next year St. Patrick!

Nude food.

Art Smart was recently conversing with a coworker about her phone-sexing with long distance boy toy. Her name is Passion Pit. PP and her boy toy were talking about an all day sexathon when she questioned him about breaking to eat (energy is necessary for such cardio activities). His response, "sushi off your naked body." Art Smart tells PP that sounds gross. "I can understand something sweet," says AS, "or baked brie, but sushi?"

Hilarious. In true AS form, cheese is part of the equation. I should take this time to mention that she is blogging as well and would like some followers. Inquire within for the link. That is all for now.

The Rectifier.

Common misconception among men: Girls nights involve us pillow fighting in our skivvies.

Reality: We drink wine, laugh, talk about boys and sex.

Last Wednesday we had a Gansett girls get-together at one of their humble abodes. Some of my girls are going through rough patches with their guys, so that dominated much of the conversation in the beginning of the evening. By 930ish, we managed to kill two big bottles of noir and grigio. We planted ourselves on the couches for quality entertainment from one of the girls that I am sad to say I am not the closest to. Let's call her Super Sexter. Homegirl is LAUGHS. We have already become closer friends since that night. She is an open book, uber sexual, and has been known to host a "naughty novelty party" or two. My kind of gal. Unfortunately for Super Sexter, her live-in lover has not been supplying her with any love lately. His high stress level has made him lose his libido and subsequently increased hers, making her the aggressor. Needless to say, her current situation is less than ideal. That being said, let's rewind to a recent novelty party in which SS was lucky enough to receive a free gift for hosting. Her gift? Drum roll please....

A. butt. plug.

No joke. What would one need a butt plug for? If you're not into activity in that area, wouldn't it be more comfortable to simply say "exit only?"

Funniest part.... the toy's name. The Rectifier. I hadn't laughed that hard in awhile.

Ok I'm lying. I laugh hard and often. Fact.

Sunshine and shenanigans. Play on playah.

I have been slacking on the blogging this week due to bitch-sitting and the beginning of my third trimester of grad school. Damn you commitments for getting in the way of my hobbies. Here is a little recap of the rest of the weekend.
Something happens to the psyche of most New Englanders when the first taste of Spring arrives... Our seasonal depression instantly vanishes and we head outside. In the case of Newporters, we usually engage in some serious day drinking. Aaahhh the return of Sunday Funday. Let me just rewind to Saturday night briefly. Another pseudo lame night that may have ended in a blackout and pizza manging. Synopsis: Drinks at pier. More drinks at pelham. Snuck up back stairs to studio for more drinks to complete the last 1/2 hour of night. Amidst the drinking, Kitty Cat was receiving interesting texts from Young Boy that she accidentally made out with "Remy's style" a few weeks prior. We ran into him walking out of the pier and the interaction was beyond awkward. When she asked if he was drunk, he responded "just don't know your deal. saw you with some guy at 180 last week." Curse you Navy Boy for blowing up Kitty Cat's spot. You can't do anything in this city by the sea without some creep watching and reporting. One of YB's final texts of the evening had me in stitches and nearly upchucking my delicious Dominoes, "play on playah." Reviewing the stream of texts the next morning, we realize he was probably trying to be funny, and a more appropriate witty response would have been, "i'm not a playah i just crush a lot."

Ok back to Sunday Funday. Kitty-Cat, Chowe and I venture out with plans to get a nice lunch and do the cliff walk in the almost 60 degree weather. Somehow we end up lunching at the Mooring. This included mimosas and a bottle of white. Mid-day buzz-success! At the time, I thought the following Kitty-Cat quote was so hilarious that I needed to write it down and photgraph it:

Creep.

After the Mooring, we park it on the couch of one of my favorite Gays. After venting about men, he proclaims how happy he is to NOT be straight. He then opens our virgin eyes to the wonderful world of guyswithiphones.com, manhunt.com, and the grinder app. Wow, gay men have it easy. Nobody questions their "deal" if they feel like making out with randoms in public. This pit stop was a perfectly entertaining sunday funday interlude.

This brings us to Pelham, where we spent the next 4 hours crushing blue moons and listening to sweet cover tunes. All sorts of characters came out of the woodwork and by 10 pm, Kitty-Cat was sipping Stoli dolis with her eyes shut. I took this as a sign we should put ourselves to bed.

Bring on the debauchery that tomorrow will bring. You can't rain on the parade of thousands of dedicated drunks. Love me some men in skirts ;)

I have more girl crushes, lesbihonest.

How could I have forgotten to mention Chelsea Handler? The woman is a comedic genius. I have been crushing on her for two years now. Pre-ordered her book weeks ago and nearly jumped for joy when it arrived in a nice little Amazon package on Monday. Even with the crazy week I've had, I managed to get in a little dose of Chelsea before snoozin. I basically peed my pants reading Chapter One: The Feeling, in which she describes her first experience with masturbating in third grade.
"I think back with fondness on that year I spent getting to know my hot pocket. While some people and the authorities took issue with it, I considered it reasonable and fair. The way I saw it was, if you looked down and saw a brownie sundae with the works sitting in your lap, day after day after day, eventually you're going to attack it."

I honestly believe if Chelsea and I were to meet, we would be great friends. If anyone is interested in buying me an early birthday present, I will take tickets to her book tour appearance in Boston on April 10th. Thank you friends and followers.

Boys will be boys.

And apparently they become creeps/pimps as early as 3rd grade. Kitty-Cat and I both got hit on by 8 year olds recently. Not. Ok. But maybe a bit comical.

Kitty-Cat's experience: "Do you have a boyfriend? You need one." - 8 year old student "Oh ya, do you have someone in mind for me?" "Ya....me." "Don't you think I'm a little old for you?" "Ya, you're like 13." Kid is wild.

My experience: Nephew of good friends gets cell phone for Christmas. I stop by on the holiday and he asks if he can have my number. I think it is a little weird, but his mom condones it. He is a harmless 3rd grader. Fast forward to this Saturday evening. I receive a text from an unknown number that reads, "wazzup hot stuf." I ask who it is. It is innocent 3rd grader and his friend. Ummm whaaatt!!??

When did 8 year old boys decide it was kosher to flirt with 25 year old women?

Updates on recurring characters.

Art smart on gchat earlier after I was giving her crap about ignoring me to get her work done, "You complete me. I just Jerry Maguire'ed yo ass. So you can't be mean to me." Cheesy (and proof that birds of a feather flock together). That broad BETTER hand over one of those paintings. Stat.

Novel girl forwarded recent facebook message from professor while I was at the hockey game Thursday night. HILARIOUS. It was about 100 words of nonsensical word vomit regarding a book recommendation laced with plenty of flirtatious banter. The man is smitten with my novel girl. He closes the message with, "What the hell am I talking about? F***ing black label on an empty stomach." Wow. Still insanely jealous. This is getting good.

My poor Kitty Cat. Navy boy never came through and made plans for final interaction before he heads back to Thai baby mama. Self esteem is bruised a bit, but everything in life is a learning experience. We are going out on the town tonight. I'm sure I will have some good material tomorrow. Stay tuned.

A little about me for now...

I clearly enjoy telling the silly stories of those I love, but I had a few fun-filled evenings this week and thought I would share. Wednesday night BR and I finally had our girl date. Decided to veto the Dear John sob-fest and head straight for sushi and cocktails.

Check out our tunamazing and painted lady rolls. YUM. Accompanied by a couple glasses of vino and followed with a tempura banana. Satisfied. We were later joined by some lovely male company and a few couples... quite a successful hump day gathering :) I want to thank BR for her sound advice and genuine interest in my blog. I am lucky for my new friends in gansett. You kids rock my socks.

Thursday night: Bruins game with Bear Paws, Close Talker and Ginny. Before I begin this story, I need to state for the record that hockey is a SEXY sport. This I have known since my freshman year in hs when I first laid eyes on TF, the most beautiful man to walk the halls of Mt. Hope(less) High. Yes, he was a hockey player. Something about big strong men skating around with a stick and bashing each other into boards. Turns me on. Ok back to my night. Supposed to meet BP in the bucket after work. Traffic on 95 and little sense of direction makes me 25 minutes late. BP not happy. More traffic heading up to Boston combined with incessant girl talk with CT makes BP a little anxious/irritable. I realize this and feel bad but there is no way to rectify the situation at this point. We just need to get there and get the big guy a stiff cocktail. Sidenote: CT does not remember meeting me on Saturday night and admits to blacking out and getting a ride home from a random. Ahhh the wonderful effects of alcoholism. We finally arrive at Quincy Adams and BP attempts to obtain a train ticket from an ATM machine. We are all losing it.

7:30 p.m. Boston at last (game started at 7). We scoop Ginny up from the Hyatt and we are on our way. Go to bar and 35 year old Ginny is denied adult beverage due to RI paper license. Close Talker is 24 and out of state peeps need to be 25 to drink (ridiculous rule if you ask me- only irresponsible early twentysomething massholes are excluded from this?). BP and I double up on beverages and all is well. Phew, there could have been an angry little Italian blowup there.

Our seats were pretty sweet. After a few overpriced beers everyone was in good spirits. Pretty sure CT developed a hard core girl crush on yours truly. Evidence of this: Sat next to me and continued the close talking. Started touching me frequently. I call her out on this and she claims to be a "touchy feely person." Friends me on facebook and talks of having dinner parties in near future. Then it gets a little weird. We take a bathroom break and she joins me IN THE STALL. Let me remind you that we just met. So it is official. She loves me. I realize that I am a serial girl-crusher, but this was a little much even for me. My crushes are non-sexual and usually on celebrity ladies.

Bruins win in a shootout. Success! More drinks at Boston Sports Grill after and back to Rhody at 1 am. Woof. It was a tired TGIF for this girl.

Providence last night for BP's birthday with Kitty Cat (thanks girl) was interesting. Lots of creeps on the dance floor. Wonder what kind of shenanagins Newport will bring tonight...

I am going to end with this classy photo. Drove behind this shocker-loving d-bag on the way to school the other day. Priceless trash. I love Rhode Island. BR- are you sure this isn't the fool that almost side swiped you recently?

Art smart.

I know I have previously mentioned that talent and passion really knock me out. Well, add natural beauty and awkwardly fantastic humor to the mix and you have my best friend in a nutshell. She recently took a breif hiatus from my life to complete 10 paintings in 2 weeks. She is applying to grad school and needed a series for her portfolio. That talented biatch works well under pressure. Below are four of her personal favorites. I am impressed and proud to call her my best friend. I'm digging the unfinished look. Imperfect perfection. When I gave her this review, her response was "It's a reflection of their maker." Now, for your viewing pleasure...

Bristol harbor with Kate

Santa Monica in Red

Newport Pearl

Hilton Head and Hands

So, if she is famous someday, I better be recognized publicly and frequently for my early exposure of her work. And if I don't have one of these paintings hanging in my apartment soon, there will be hell to pay. That is all for now.

Wait. Sidenote: Newport weather is yucky today. Summer please? Looking forward to sushi date tonight with girl crush BR :)

You just can't make this stuff up.

Depressing realization: My friends' dating/sex lives are more interesting than my own.

Positive outcome: They provide me with stellar material.


So novel girl assured me that she would keep me posted on all activity involving passionate professor, but until then, let me share the story of one of my best friends and navy baby daddy.


Setting of first meeting: Friday night; T (translation: trashy) bar that we rarely frequent. Boy spots girl from across the bar. Walks over. They engage in flirtatious banter, exchange digits, make plans for date three days later.



12:58 pm. Closing time. Navy boy's dumpy friend cock blocks him and mentions that he knocked up some broad in Thailand and he lives in Japan. We assume it was an accidental pregnancy, and my friend (we will call her Kitty-cat hahahah) and I decide that we will ignore the cock-blocking and see this as an opportunity to have some fun fresh off a break-up. He is only in town for two weeks and we only live once folks. "These things are fun, and fun is good."
Tuesday night: 1st date. Kitty-cat and navy boy get shmammered and he reveals juicy deets regarding baby mama drama. Not a mistake. Informed decision to start family with Thai girl whom he is currently in a relationship with. WTF!??? Kitty-cat visibly upset and drowns her sorrows in red, red wine. Looks past this minute detail, moves on to another bar and proceeds to take him home. GTs had by all.
Texting and phone calls commence the following day and Navy boy plans date #2 for Saturday night. I must mention here that Kitty-cat is a tad superficial and he is incredibly attractive and entertaining (tall, dark and handsome type).
This brings us to Saturday. Kitty-cat is looking fly. Another great dinner date (more drinks than dinner- Navy boy gets shut off) combined with drunk dancing and they are back at her place again. Clothes strewn throughout living room and sexy time commences. Everything is fabulous. Post coital chat is idyllic and then... Navy boy blows the fantasy. "How does it feel knowing you are the last girl I will sleep with besides Thai girl?" Why must you boys say things we don't want to hear!? Kitty-cat pissed. Way to go, Navy boy. She drops him off at base and plans to meet before he leaves are in place. Unfortunately, dynamic is now spoiled. Kitty-cat's spirit is crushed. Don't worry though, there are plenty of creeps in the wings for her.

Lesbihonest.

So I've been accepting constructive criticism from my male readers, and the verdict is in. Sex sells, and in this visually enhanced technological world we live in, I need more pictures and videos on the blog. Basically, I need less word vomit and more photos of aesthetically pleasing people, places and things. Here is my best attempt at a combo.

Every now and then, I develop a girl crush or two. Don't get me wrong, I love men. There is just something amazing about a beautiful, intelligent, stylish, funny gal. Here are a few chicks I've been crushing on lately (or for some time now)...

Ahhh Diablo Cody. Brilliant, hilarious stripper-turned-screenwriter/Oscar winner. That bitch is badass. I saw Juno three times IN THE THEATER. No joke. Took my 12 year old cousin with me twice. Inappropriate? Maybe. The dialogue so fresh, so quirky. I couldn't get enough. Own the movie now and I'm still obsessed. I want to possess an ounce of her talent. "As boyfriends go, Paulie Bleeker is totally boss. He is the cheese to my macaroni." Sigh. I love her.

A couple months ago I had the following quote as my status on facebook: "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I got a great deal of feedback, good and bad. I crush on Kate for her impeccable style, her stunning good looks and her idon'tgiveaf**k attitude. She doesn't possess all the qualities I look for in a girl crush, but that comment alone was fantastic and blog-worthy.

I will end with this beauty. She had me as mean girl Regina George and wowed me as hopeless romantic Allie Hamilton. Many reasons to hard core crush on this lovely lady. One being her overwhelming beauty. Two being her enviable relationship with Ryan Gosling (I'm still hoping they get back together. Or that he finds me and asks for my hand in marriage. A girl can dream). Three being her commitment to the green movement. I was watching her on Conan (miss you man) and she spoke so eloquently and passionately about recycling, biking everywhere and unplugging all appliances at night. Her carbon footprint is one I want to follow. Check out her green is sexy website and become as enthralled as I have.