By the way, there is a higher probability of me giving up drinking than finding pictures of Schmee, "The Homewrecker," where she is (a) not hugging someone (b) not making "sex face" or (c) not hammered.
LYLAS! (yeah, we do that. Shut up.) Here's what she's got to say (and like I said, there is a lot):
I’ve decided to follow Ammo’s lead and do a list of Top However Many Memories I Can Think Of Involving Rassles. Well, that’s how it’s going to start at least. Chances are this blog will be all over the place. Deal with it.
1. The time we drove around for hours smoking cigarettes to “Freebird” and then changing the lyrics to make up our own song about cigarettes. It went something like…"Man, I neeeeed a ciga- reeeeeee-eeeeeeeette. OhhhhOh ciga-reeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeette" Don’t lie. You all just tried to sing it in your head and it was magical….
2. The time we sang “Tiny Dancer” at the Bullpen and we made up dance moves. Then we realized the song is about 10 minutes long and we looked like idiots. Lame.
3. The time the Bullpen got raided because there was a wet t-shirt contest (which Emi won even with a blue t-shirt on. What a hooker.) and I had to hide in the bathroom because I wasn’t 21 yet. Rassles brought me beer and talked to me over the stall until the cops had cleared out. That’s when I knew I had a true friend…
4. The time Fraya and I showed up at The Shithole (Rassles’ house her senior year of college…name is self explanatory) after about 14 hours of drinking (damn, the OZO’s and their Octoberfest) desperately needing help from Rassles because I had taken a nasty spill (YEAH parentheses) and hit my head on the curb. Instead of helping me she broke out the video camera and got footage of me trying to have a conversation with the tomato in my Wendy’s hamburger. Could we say life-ruiner???
5. The time we had a massive flippy cup tournament at The Shithole, filled with team chanting and everything. The sad part is that nobody can remember whose team won because we were all so hammered. It was definitely either mine or Rassles’ team though.
6. The morning/afternoon after the flippy cup tournament when we tried to solve The Mystery of the Inflatable Snowman. Afkjls;dfklaskdl. That deserves a blog all to itself. Git er done Ross.
7. Later that same day when I got home and checked my messages I had one from Rassles that said, verbatim, “I was fuckin HAMMERED last night. HAM—MURRED. I puked. And it looked like thousand island dressing…
8. Another one of the many times Rassles’ broke out the video camera was after a drunken night at the Bullpen when everyone that was at the bar came back to The Shithole (Are we noticing a pattern here?) and people started taking turns sledding down the stairs in a laundry basket….Classic.
9. One of our many movie nights, which were basically just an excuse for us not to do homework, she brought over the movie Secretary insisting that it would be great because she loves James Spader. So we watched it, blushing and laughing awkwardly throughout. “Cream potatoes! Four peas! ….edward!!!”
10. The time Rassles came back to Augie for my 21st birthday and she recorded every drink/shot I had on a piece of cardboard from a Coors light box. And when I puked after the 20th one (first and only time I’ve ever puked from drinking and only the second time I’ve ever puked in my life. I know, I rule.) we went back to Bobbay’s house where I was forced to take a hit of weed as my 21st “drink/shot”. Then we proceeded to watch the “you got a fuckin dart in your neck!” part from Old School about 10 times…while laughing uncontrollably of course. I feel tired.
11. The countless hours we spent with the Animal Book taking the quiz for ourselves, and for others, over and over and over again. And the fact that she still talks to me even though I’m a sea lion who supposedly “has conversations that lack substance and logical grounding.” ARH,ARH,ARH. Life ruined again.
12. COLLEGE… NO PARENTS… BURRRRRR
One of the first times Rassles ever went to Live Band Karaoke she was with Emi. Sadly, I was not there. But I did get quite the phone call from a pissed off Rassles in the middle of the night. The conversation went a little like this….
SCHMEE - What the hell happened? Why are you so mad?
RASSLES - Fucking Emi makes me come out to fuckin live band with her and then leaves me in the fuckin corner by myself all night while she makes out with some fuckin random girl.
(keep in mind, these are the days before Emi was a full blown lez. As far as we knew she still dated dudes but just made out with our lesbian friend Kate from time to time. Oh how things have changed…)
SCHMEE - Well that’s interes—
RASSLES - (Interrupting) It’s fucking bullshit! I had to sit there while every dude at the bar came up to me asking if they were my friends and what their deal was. And the---
(M.E. steals the phone from her)
M.E. - (wasted) Duuuude. This girl was HOT. She was SO hot. And oh my god SUCH a good kisser.
SCHMEE - Nice job, M.E. Work it.
RASSLES - (from the background) Whatever the girl didn't even have a fucking bra on. I fucking hate you, M.E.
Who was the random girl, you ask? Well, it was our soon to be Whore Captain...Captain Ammo herself. And so began the debauchery that is LBK. It was an era that consisted of theme nights, good singing, bad singing, whore chants, LOTS of liquor, and blacking out. I would try and list some good memories but they were all pretty damn good. Well, that, and the fact that all the blacking out would make for quite a few holes in the stories...Damn those soco lime shots.
POST COLLEGE/NOT LBK BUT STILL KARAOKE
There was a period of time where Rassles, M.E., and I took our karaoke obsession to a whole new level by finding almost every dive bar in the burbs that had karaoke and pretty much becoming regulars. I mean, we actually drove around with the Karaoke Nite Life newspaper in our cars in case we absolutely needed karaoke and it was an off night at our regular bars. Talk about obsessed. Anyway, this is the time period in which some of these memories took place.
The many times we went to Rory's and got free pitchers and shots until after the bar time because the owner was obsessed with me, almost to a creepy degree. He had a girlfriend of course, because this was when I was an unintentional Homewrecker. Oh, and Rassles bought him a hat he wanted once which got us even more free booze. Sweet. In the end we found out they shut the bar down because he was arrested for sexually assaulting some chick after hours. What a classy establishment that was.
The time we went to a bar in the middle of nowhere because M.E. wanted to enter the karaoke rap contest. I sang my first song, tripped over the microphone cord and fell off the stage. a;ljks;kdjf "I'm gonna start calling you the One Beer Wonder...hehe" (Quote from the douchebag DJ that was in love with Rassles and comments like that being the reason she wanted nothing to do with him).
Then me and Rassles ended up at some random dude's apartment (Rassles kept calling him Beaches so we never figured out his real name) where we smoked a bunch of pot and watch Vanilla Sky. At about 7 in the morning we got a taste for McDonald's breakfast and had to eat our food in front of a bunch of people wearing business suits who were on the way to work. Gotta love going out on weekdays. That was probably the weirdest night of my life...
All the nights doing karaoke at Where Else? cuz Where Else? would we go?
Being in love with the old man who sang Sinatra at Sponge Reef.
RANDOM MEMORIES OF, OR WITH YOU THAT MAKE ME LAUGH
The time you slept over at my house in my sister's room and when I woke up you were watching Hook and playing with Tarot cards, hung over as hell.
The time we left Goldies (bar that sells dollar PBR's and lets you play old school Nintendo...Best. Bar. Ever.) and you baffed black bile in your hand...And then stared at it for about 2 minutes before cleaning it off on your shirt. Stop drinking whiskey!
Every Pub Chugga Chugga Choo Choo. Especially the first one where Miles Long did magic tricks and pulled a gerbil out of your boobs. HAH. Everyone better be coming to PCCCC 6 on Saturday!
The time we dominated at flippy cup. Which time do you ask? You're right. I should be more specific because we always dominate. the time when Flips McGee and the Cup Killers got 3rd place out of 40 teams in Chicago, and got everybody at McFaddens to chant, "Bull-shit" because we so obviously won that round. That referee was a dumb bitch.
All the nights we made stroganoff and watched Coupling. "Ohhh, Jeffrey..."
All the times we've dominated the jukebox and made people listen to Chicago and Foreigner.
The time we dressed up as the Ghostbusters for Halloween and you made awesome proton packs for us out of Carson Pirie Scott boxes. And then, you had a giant pink care bear tell you that "he's hit a girl before and he'd do it again." All because we kicked his ass in flippy cup.
Alright, I'm gonna cut myself off right there because this is becoming the longest blog on earth. I've been slaving over it for 3 days. And now I have to go back and edit the shit out of it to make sure I'm satisfied. This is why I do not blog. It stresses me out. And I feel like I'm doing homework.
In closing, I would just like to say thank you, Rassles. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for introducing me to my boyfriend, and Orazio's, and The Can, and Neighbors, and all of your Ville friends. And thank you for not getting mad that I hang out with all those people, all those places more than you do. Oh wait, you do get mad about that. Most of all, thank you for being you, because without you, I would not be the person I am today. I hope you think your present is blog-tastic and you have a Happy Biffy Baffy Birthday.