This year has been pretty wild with all of the traveling. (Mostly professionally, some personally.) Honestly? I’m loving it. Especially the part about having the opportunity to experience new places with all of their sights and sounds and smells and tastes. Tonight’s dinner here in Reno was out of this world tasty. The lights and action in Las Vegas24 hours a day. The playing of the trumpet thingy, calling the horses to the gates in Kentucky. Smelling the ocean air in Cabo San Lucas. It has been a terrific year so far.
In addition to all of the senses being engaged, experiences during travel have an interesting way of hitting my funny bone. Which brings me to today’s photo. While in Lexington Twinkle and Tinkle Twats really wanted to go into the lingerie store in the strip mall next to our hotel. I’m a fan of sexy things so I quickly agreed. As soon as I walk in, I see a display of novelty items. And the first one makes me cackle like a hyena, grab the product and holler, “My internet friends would love this! I wonder if I could buy these in bulk and give them away as prizes.”
This is what cracked me up and made me think of you:
Yes, that is a cow key chain called Beef Strokin Off which vibrates when you squeeze his cock. hehe
Problem is, drunk girl forgot to buy any of them. Well, that and I don’t really run contests over here. So you have to settle for a crappy cellica phone picture and the knowledge that I saw something that made me laugh. xoxo
More not sober blogging tomorrow.
Although I would like the record to show that I am in my room ALONE pretty damn early. There is an incredibly gorgeous man that I should be out playing with right now, but fuck, I gotta not go getting myself into trouble. Sigh, this being good thing is interesting…
I am to be on an early morning flight to San Antonio for work. There is laundry to be done (although contrary to what Adam might tell you, even the spin cycle doesn’t make me excited for laundry) and packing to be completed (read as “started”). Yet what have I done all fucking night? Read blogs and Twats. Yep, “wasted” my night with laughter at all of the internet friends that I was finally able to put skin on.
So much of me wants to write about our adventures in Philly, but I really think you need to go digging around for stories yourself. Like a scavenger hunt. Doing so myself has brought me to laughter filled tears several times tonight and I haven’t even gotten to half of the blogs of the folks I met at TequilaCon. Sure, part of me knows this is a copout, but the other part knows that a) these fuckers are much funnier than I am, b) I gotta get some shit done around here before I am out all week traveling and c) I sure as hell don’t wanna be the one telling stories that I shouldn’t be tellin!
Start here and be sure to make jumps from the comments: nycwd, poppy, adam, britt, karl, hilly, shiny, black belt momma, jen, dave2, metalmomma, shelli, finn
How about I am already looking forward to next year’s West Coast adventure. Bring it on. Just so long as I don’t have to room with Karl. (Maybe by then I will know how to get Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax” to play whenever I write about Karl’s late night adventures.)
I wonder if now that I met these people in “real” life, now that I have hugged them, broke bread with them, raised many a glass with them, if now I can officially refer to them as “my friends” and not have people I have known for years think I am crazy. Like Popeye I am what I am, but it really should not have to do with my love of my internet posse. Sweet, sweet posse. hehe…Hilly has ruined me on that phrase. And I love it.
P.S. I am curious if any TequilaCon participants made it out for Margaritas on Cinco or if enough was enough…
EDITED TO ADD: Ok people. Seriously. If you don’t go to Karl’s to read his pee your pants recap or over to Adam’s to watch the video that includes a mighty might penis being whipped out into my face or over to Dawg’s place to read about the Avitasuite or over to Britt’s to see photos, then you can all suck it. This is funny, funny stuff here people!
I am so thankful that Friday is here. This week is one that I will never forget. There is no way that I can properly convey my need for a weekend away.
Good news is Friday is here. I will feed the dogs as usual around 6 or 6:30, then pack up the boys and schlep them to their socialized play kennel. (What a blessing that place is! Both of my boys get to play with 15 other dogs all day, exhausting them for the night in doggie jail. I am grateful that they aren’t locked up in a small box 24 hours a day.) Return from dropping them off and empty out the vehicle. Gotta shower and finish packing, then hit the road by 8:30. Directions are already printed. Look out Philly, I will be on my way.
Karl flies in around 2 when I arrive (and since I totally crush on Karl I am picking him up at the airport…wheeeeeeee!), Britt and Adam are in around 3, then Hilly finally gets in close 5:30 or so. At that point the drinking may really begin. My vehicle is large enough so I will be doing the airport runs. It will save folks on car rentals or cabs, plus Adam has graciously volunteered to be our designated driver so that my drunk ass doesn’t have to worry about a DUI. (Thanks, Adam!) Cross your fingers that I won’t drool all over Karl all night. 
Othurme and Jester and Winter want drunk dials. They made the mistake of giving me their phone numbers. My phone needs a breathalyzer as it is, them asking for calls is downright wrong. Although Turnbaby, Killer, DVD and Fabby will probably all suffer as well. I love the drunk dial. Especially at inappropriate times. Sorry in advance. I know not what I will say. xoxo
Looking forward to sharing stories with you. Looking forward to taking half nekkid photos to share with you. I just hope that I can survive the weekend in order to get to San Antonio in one piece next week.
OH! Speaking of surviving, I went to Benihana with Twinkle Twat and a great friend Thursday night. Just sat at the bar (so that we could watch the Penguins game…how the fuck could they have lost without even scoring one goal? uggggh!) and had sushi while drinking too much. Those girls are so funny that it was easy to concentrate on the fun of the night. They make living like living instead of just surviving another day. Even if our hot bartender wouldn’t fully go along with Topless Thursday. We threatened to come back for Take Your Pants off Tuesday. He encouraged our behavior. Although I gotta admit, his stomach makes me desire Topless Thursdays the most. Even though he is only 31 and I typically desire older guys, I could enjoy eating M&M’s off of his chest. yum…
P.S. I leave you with this thought. I am sharing a room with Hilly and Britt. All that femininity in one room, snuggled together. Keep that thought. Photos to follow…
Happy weekend. Thanks for being here for me. You are loved. Yes, you.
While in Kentucky there were many, and I do mean many, bizarre drunken conversations. During one late night booze influenced conversation I was trying to explain to my NOT SO little cousin and our awesome aunt why blogging has been so therapeutic for me. I tried to explain how it truly is possible to call you fantastic folks my friends. Took a few conversations and having NOT SO little cousin Twinkle Twat take nekkid photos of me while awesome aunt Tinkle Twat directed, but I think they are seeing how much you all mean to me.
So when Twinkle Twat decided that her dragon tattoo needed a name, it was a rather easy to convince her that we should take this to the internet. Monday when she had time she took a few photos that do not do this magnificent work of art justice, but they should do for the purpose of this contest.
The winner gets nothing really. Well, they will get the satisfaction of knowing that a gorgeous almost 27 year old is walking around referring to her dragon by the name you suggested. Winner is picked solely by Twinkle Twat. Because she sure as fuck is not the type of woman who lets me tell her what to do, not even if this is my site.
So, without further ado, here are the photos of her gorgeous dragon:
Photos would have been better if done on a real digital camera, but this is what the cellica phone gave us to work with. You can still sorta make out how awesome he is. Even though she gave birth two years ago he held his shape incredibly well. I love how his tail snakes down her leg almost as much as I love him gripping on to her front and back. Most of all I love his face. He looks like a kind and wise dragon, doesn’t he? Ok, I will shut it and let you get to naming. (My submission is George.)
EDIT TO ADD: Re seems to have settled on Grimford. Kiyo is still my favorite, but I was unable to get good ole Twinkle Twat to budge. So, Grimford it is!
(Jerry, in Reno you can use your tongue to help get the chocolate pudding from my heaving breasts after the wrestling match…congrats on winning the contest!)
We made it in one piece to Kentucky!!! Instead of leaving at 6 PM (when I was actually ready, thank you very much), we didn’t leave Pittsburgh until 7:20. After a long day at work. For a drive that was scheduled to take 6 1/2 hours. And I was driving (ok, my choice).
As an admitted leadfoot, I am happy to announce that I shaved some time from the Yahoo maps announced 6 1/2 hour journey. We pulled up in front of the hotel at 12:54 AM. Yay, me! And yay police for not being anywhere near me!!! Plus yay us for not getting lost! Life is so very good.
Speaking of good, thanks for the opinions on yesterday’s post. Yinz guys rock. Hard.
I need to get some rest. Tomorrow Today the Maker’s Mark Mile horse race at Keeneland starts at 1 PM and we need to go to the Liquor Barn to stock up on awesome hootch that we can’t get in PA.
Before I go I will leave you with a few photos of us about to embark on our adventure. I’m not sure Maker’s Mark and the other Ambassadors are ready for our level of “class.” More photos to follow as often as possible.
Anyone heard the one about the midget with a hairlip who desired to purchase a horse? He wanted to see her eyes. He wanted to see her teeth. He wanted to see her twat. Never mind. My aunt is laughing so hard she is snorting and I can’t quite make out the rest of the joke. Perhaps I will return with the rest of it. And the punchline. Then again, maybe it will be the same as Judd Nelson’s character in The Breakfast Club when he is crawling above the ceiling, out of the closet, and is telling the joke about the naked lady with a poodle under her arm who walks into a bar. I never did figure out the punchline to that one either…
Ok, I will freely admit to having consumed entirely too much alcohol today. Spell check caught 3 spelling errors in that first sentence, so if this is not the most perfect of posts, I beg your forgiveness. Well, beg is a tad strong, but you get my point.
I never made it to the parade. The German Shepherd (Louie) didn’t get his annual drooling over by drunkards. Don’t feel sorry for him, he goes to arts festivals, car cruises and just about every public outing that I attend. He can deal with a day at home. Reilly, my 50 lb beagle - lab mix actually share’s his birthday with St. Patrick’s Day itself so he’ll get ice cream at Bruster’s on Monday.
Instead of the parade, I hit Station Square for the bands and the booze. Yeah. A LOT of booze. The boys brought 12 year old Jameson and cases of Yuengling Black & Tans. I did my fair share of hurting their stash, but one of the bars down there had Smithwick’s on tap so I drank plenty of them.
I paid some little boy (22 years old) a buck to see his blue underwear. Unfortunately there are no photos (sorry, Jester) because I was too busy showing him my matching blue Hanes Her Way. Yep, I ain’t proud, but I report the truth.
Oh, and some little boys called me a saint because I gave them beer. I remember those days of not being able to afford much of anything. They were so cute…I couldn’t help myself.
The bands were surprisingly good, but I only did the jig once. My boobs don’t hurt. (yet) This is a good thing. We did plenty of dancing, but I didn’t spill a drop of beer. Unlike others. Fuckers.
ANYhow, someone (hi, Adam) thought it would be funny if I posted photos of drunk me. I know this is not a good idea, but Mel said drunk blogging is a must do so here ya go. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Hope these post ok. If not, I probably can’t do a damn thing about it tonight. Sorry.
Oh, and I can’t remember which were from round 1 and which were from round 2. And I only remembered to take photos when I was at home. Again, sorry.
xoxo
Today is Donnie’s birthday. He is a good man with a wonderfully warped sense of humor, an excellent husband, a dedicated father and all around a terrific friend that I met through work.
Please allow Donnie to serve as a warning to you all. Should you consume too many margaritas, strange (and sometimes wonderful) things may happen. And often there will be a camera present.
(Happy, happy birthday, Donnie McPukerson! I love you more than you can imagine!)
I love tequila. Judging from the comments to my “I just drank my damn dinner” post yesterday, some of you also appreciate a good margarita. As a thank you for the support you all have shown my new little baby blog, I would like to share with you my double top secret recipe for the best margarita on the planet.
About five years ago I learned of this heavenly mixture and I’m telling you, these are so good that I have a difficult time ordering margaritas in restaurants now. The only margaritas that came close were (Britt, close your eyes for a moment) the margaritas that I had the pleasure of tasting in Cabo San Lucas at the beginning of February. (I will so admit to drinking vast quantities of what can only be described as pure liquid ecstasy and I will not make excuses for saying they were my favorite part of Mexico.)
So, without further adieu, may I please present my favorite margarita recipe for your drinking pleasure. It is as follows…
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1 can of frozen limeade, dumped into the blender
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same can, now filled halfway with a dark beer, dumped into the blender (Dos Equis dark works best, but honestly, any will do) (and please don’t say “ewww, why beer in a margarita?” Because I am telling you, these frikken rock. Trust me…I wouldn’t steer you wrong on this one.)
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same can, now filled about two fingers high with Triple Sec, dumped into the blender
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same can, now filled about halfway with a good tequila, dumped into the blender (Don Julio is my personal favorite, but Patron and the like would be excellent.)
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add ice
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blend
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pour into any glass that makes you happy to hold
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garnish with lime round on glass if desired (but I think it might really make a difference!)
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drink and enjoy
The photo above goes to a recipe that I am excited to try. This is one I found when searching the Food Channel’s website for info on that smoking hot Jamie Deen. (Don’t judge! The other day was a lazy Sunday with a remote control that led to me accidentally finding him and his brother running around trying different fun regional foods. Jamie has that accent that I can’t get enough of. He totally made my knees weak. Just. From. Speaking. Yum!)
ANYhow, where were we? Oh, yeah…here is a recipe that I hope to partake in soon. Although not soon enough. (Hey, I thought you weren’t going to judge! Shhhhhhhhhhhhh…)
1 quart ruby red grapefruit juice
10 fresh mint leaves , torn in half
2 shots orange liqueur
8 shots tequila
Combine all the ingredients in a pitcher and stir to combine.
Pour over ice and serve. Drink and be happy.
Just don’t drink and drive. (Drinking and blogging is encouraged, though.)
xoxo
My favorite part of being single has to be the fact that I do not have to cook dinner for anyone, which means I can eat whatever I want while not wearing pants. While sitting on the couch with the TV remote and a laptop.
After a day like I had, it was nice to come home and crack open a bottle of chardonnay. Normally I am a beer (mmmmmmmmm, Smithwicks) and pretzels kind of girl. Or a Ketel One and tonic kind of girl. Or a Maker’s Mark and ginger ale kind of girl. Or a Don Julio margarita kind of girl. But tonight I cracked open that bottle of wine and lemme tell you, it is tasty. TAS-TEE!
Chardonnay goes with a piece of leftover pan pizza, right? I mean, after all, there wasn’t any pepperoni on the pizza. Doesn’t meat on a pizza dictate red wine?
Anyhow, problem is, I don’t want to become an alcoholic and most alcoholics drink alone, right? I don’t think my dogs count against the alone part. Yet I really wanted that damn wine.
So I called my cousin. She lives out of state and we talked while we each drank a few glasses of wine. That counts, right? That so counts!
