drunk as hell

I have some serious, �Pamela Jean, I am not playing with you,� gas.

My mom never called me pamela jean when she was upset with me. In fact, she never called me Pamela Jean. She�s never even called me Pamela-- I�ve always been either Pam or Pammie.

Whatever, I was talking about farts.

I�ve been farting since I woke up at way-too-early this morning. Seriously-- my bowels are just moving all over the place. Wacky.

That might have something to do with the fact that I�m still a little drunk from last night. I don�t know if this is what other people consider to be hangovers, because I don� have a headache. I honestly still feel kind of drunk.

I remember hearing stories when I was 17 from all of my 24 year old friends about how they �would drink all night, and wake up on sunday still drunk as fuck! Dude!!� My friends were rockers, skaters, and bike riders (who fucking role-played, get the fuck outta here) at that point.

Now I hang with really calm people. Hell, I�ve gotten way calm. At least that�s what my Psychic friend tells me. Well, I think that�s what she told me-- I was kind of drunk at the time.

Okay, rewind! It�s Tuesday. I got drunk last night? Wholy shit-- what�s going on here?

Hell yeah.

Last night Latrice, Allison and I went out and got (really) drunk. We had an uber-awfuckingsome time. I wouldn�t say we got shit faced, because as Alli and I agreed, we�d been drunker. She�s been puking, and I�ve been warm without wearing a coat on new year�s day. We�re experienced. Latrice hadn�t gotten drunk in like, forever- but I�m glad she got inebriated with us.

This all started because I told Alli that I wanted to take her out for her birthday (which was like, two whole weeks ago) but our schedules clashed so badly that we didn�t have an opportunity until last night. So I scrambled to find somewhere to take her, and finally Latrice showed me a party her friendster-friend, Monica (no, not the monica I know from NYC... by the way, monica, I still read your journal ever day, dude. lol) was going to be getting her DJ on at. I didn�t remember much about this party except one short phrase.

$2 Drinks.

So, naturally, we were down.

I meet up with Latrice and Allison at their pad. We rolled out at like quarter after ten, and were on our way. I got us in a cab, �cause I wasn�t in the mood for septa, and we laughed about movies, and Arnold�s spankable ass in T3, and maria shriver being damaged goods. Eventually we stumble, still sober, out of the cab, and are e got our intro to the famed Monica, who Latrice always tells stories about fondly.

Monica starts talking at us, and mispronounces Alli�s name as Ellie, to which I was all like Are you deaf or drunk? She was drunk, but damn. So there are like eight people in the bar, counting my little threesome and the people serving the drinks. *yawn* Okay, enough bullshittin, where the two dolla drinks be at? We sit at the bar and order random girly drinks and talk. Alli was all about trying to get the shirt off of the back of this cute bartender guy. No such luck, he was apparently fucking the female bartender.

Okay, the club was dead, and we wanted to get drunk somewhere fun. We get up to go, with the desire to get 2 dollar drinks elsewhere, and eventually get some hot wings. In our efforts to leave, we encountered this obnoxiously drunk black dude who sounded like he was from somewhere in europe. He said he had a porsche (whatever). He was so goddamn drunk that his sentences made no/little sense at all. I had a difficult time not laughing at him. In fact, I was drunk, and didn�t give a shit, so I laughed at the guy. In his face. He was amusing all three of us until Alli popped off of her barstool and stood on the ground he says, �Goddamn your short!� I couldn�t think of an appropriate insult, except for the fact that I was much taller than he was. Prick. I was rude to him for the remaining 3 minutes that he talked at us.

Then Alli hit the potty, and Trice started talkin� (she�s a talky drunk) and Monica had this tasty looking concoction in a martini glass sitting in front of her. Since I�m totally curious, nosy, and liking to try new things, I asked her what it was. She told me some crazy name, and I was like, I want one. Latrice says �I want one.� We sip. We �Mmmm.� I order a third for Allison, after she tasted some of mine. We all go, �Yum!� The bartender, Jessica, goes �That�ll be 27 dollars all together.�

*insert sound of screeching tires*

In my head there�s an entire dialogue, where Jessica gave me appropriate, yet meek responses. �Hold up, bitch. How much? Get the fuck out of here. Nine dollars! Bitch! Wait a minute. What? Fuck you! I didn�t spend nine dollars on fucking south-jersey grown pumpkins, I�m sure as hell not going to spend nine dollars on less than 16 ounces of chocolate milk flavored alcohol in a easy-to-shatter glass! Fuck you. Girls, we�re out.�

What I actually said amounted to something more like, �Uh... okaaay.� I paid nearly 30 dollars for 3 drinks. That completely fucked my entire nights drinkin� budget, and any chance of having a cab ride home.

So we finish those drinks (which Latrice and Alli savored) and roll the fuck out in search of hot wings. We take two steps outta the door and Alli goes, �PALM READINGS! YAY!� I was like, oooh, I want my palm read too. Trice goes... um? So we�re in the palm reading spot, and I paid 10 dollars for a(n attractive) latin woman to read my palm and tell me truths about myself.

I have a kind and giving aura, worry too much about what other people think, and have an upcoming career change. Oh, and I�m going to marry once, and have 3 kids-- two girls and a boy. Right.

The lady that did Alli�s palm reading totally robbed her of all her money. �You look like you could use a psychic cleansing.� To this, I laughed. In fact I laughed a whole hell of a lot last night.

So that was way fun, and disturbingly spontaneous.

Then we finally got around to walking to the spot with the awesome wings. Mmm. We get right outside, and look across the street. What did we see? Another palm reading spot. Wholy shit. So we walk in, and again- both alli and I get our palms read. It was so random and fun. I miss being random. The second palm reader said I feel tied down and want to travel. She also said I want to move away. I�d love to move away, but right now I do feel tied down. I don�t know why, though.

Okay, so finally, we get to the spot with the kickassmotherfucking wings. We grab a table, and start fucking with our waiter. Alli begins to flirt. For her benefit, I�m not gonna go into detail with what occurred between her and the asshole waiter. We did play a short game of truth or dare, where alli licked a table, and latrice divulged some painful facts. Trice actually talked a lot for �Trice in a social setting of more than 2� it was awesome. She needs to get drunk more often, lol.

I had a discussion with alli about life in general, and she told me- in more detail- about how she wants to move to new england. I might move with her when she goes, just to get the fuck out of philadelphia. This city is like poison. I�m sure it�s tastier in smaller doses, but I�ve lived here all my life. Time to be somewhere else. I�ve never lived anywhere but here, and that�s rather depressing. Even if I don�t move to new england, I have to get the fuck outta here.

Anyway, we had an awesome night, and knowing me I�m going to update more about it later, because I have to get to work.

More later!

love and adoration,

pam