Or maybe just need some sleep.
It’s Pam, and I thought I would check in since I’ve been MIA for a little while – not just in cyberspace kiddies, but ‘the scene’ in general. (Side note: Interesting that a week without lurking around a bar is significantly noteworthy to me. Hmmm, perhaps I need to explore that. Or not. Moving on) Let me bring you up to speed. No points lately for this gal. Excuses, excuses. Let them begin. I’ve been out of the city a lot lately and last weekend chose to focus on getting some much needed stuff done, like addressing the grimy cottage-like status of my living quarters. A party girl lifestyle can take its toll - but certainly worth it, don’t buy into that shit if someone tells you different! That is propaganda and last time I checked propaganda was illegal.
So I stroll into work this morning “on a fresh hangover”, kick my shoes off under my desk and pour myself a cold one. Drink of water that is. My co-worker has learned to read the subtle signs (eyes half closed, red morning-after booze face, scraggily hair) of my lifestyle and after getting off the phone asks when I was going downstairs to get my tomato and cheese bagel – my standard hangover breakfast choice. Perhaps I am not such an enigma after all. Humbling.
I did get out and about and score myself some points last night. Was out with Gemma, Monica, Cassie and Chelsea and some others having a few (platters) of drinks and dancing. The talent there was okay, nothing to write home about, just to blog about. I did end up making out with someone we’ll call Bitch Tits, not because he had them, but just because I think it is amusing and why the heck not. It makes me laugh to myself every time.Upon meeting, Bitch Tits told me four things either about himself or that were important to him, I can’t remember. All I remember is that they seemed way too crafted so I called him on it. Really, you only chose four things and two of them were that you loved to cook and loved children? The other two were along the same lines, but I just can’t remember what they were. I think I may have called him lame. As much as I love both of those things too, who the heck puts that out there at a bar? And also, who the heck speaks in lists, and how did it come up? Oh right it was right around the time he was questioning me about why my new cougar best friend and I that I was sitting with bonded so quickly. “What is it about her that you think is so great?” Uh hello, look at her? She’s hot to trot and workin’ that dancefloor like nobody’s business. She was a blast. What’s not to love? After chatting a little more and learning that he was 36, it was clear that Bitch Tits was ready to put a ring on it. In general.
Bitch Tits and I made out some more at the end of a dark hallway, but I had enough and wanted to get more drinks and dance. The band was really good. Bitch Tits was nice but was getting a tad annoying. And it’s not because he didn’t buy me a drink. That was understandable seeing as I had two on the go usually anyway. For instance I’d be talking to someone else, like trying to pick up the bass player and he’d just show up. Or I’d be in conversation with his colleagues and he’d announce that he needed to go make a phone call. Okay then go ahead. Oh wait that was code for you want to go make out some more? Holy hell who am I, Tom Hanks in The Da Vinci Code? How am I supposed to decipher that? Everybody’s drunk, so just come out and say so.
It’s Pam, and I thought I would check in since I’ve been MIA for a little while – not just in cyberspace kiddies, but ‘the scene’ in general. (Side note: Interesting that a week without lurking around a bar is significantly noteworthy to me. Hmmm, perhaps I need to explore that. Or not. Moving on) Let me bring you up to speed. No points lately for this gal. Excuses, excuses. Let them begin. I’ve been out of the city a lot lately and last weekend chose to focus on getting some much needed stuff done, like addressing the grimy cottage-like status of my living quarters. A party girl lifestyle can take its toll - but certainly worth it, don’t buy into that shit if someone tells you different! That is propaganda and last time I checked propaganda was illegal.
So I stroll into work this morning “on a fresh hangover”, kick my shoes off under my desk and pour myself a cold one. Drink of water that is. My co-worker has learned to read the subtle signs (eyes half closed, red morning-after booze face, scraggily hair) of my lifestyle and after getting off the phone asks when I was going downstairs to get my tomato and cheese bagel – my standard hangover breakfast choice. Perhaps I am not such an enigma after all. Humbling.
I did get out and about and score myself some points last night. Was out with Gemma, Monica, Cassie and Chelsea and some others having a few (platters) of drinks and dancing. The talent there was okay, nothing to write home about, just to blog about. I did end up making out with someone we’ll call Bitch Tits, not because he had them, but just because I think it is amusing and why the heck not. It makes me laugh to myself every time.Upon meeting, Bitch Tits told me four things either about himself or that were important to him, I can’t remember. All I remember is that they seemed way too crafted so I called him on it. Really, you only chose four things and two of them were that you loved to cook and loved children? The other two were along the same lines, but I just can’t remember what they were. I think I may have called him lame. As much as I love both of those things too, who the heck puts that out there at a bar? And also, who the heck speaks in lists, and how did it come up? Oh right it was right around the time he was questioning me about why my new cougar best friend and I that I was sitting with bonded so quickly. “What is it about her that you think is so great?” Uh hello, look at her? She’s hot to trot and workin’ that dancefloor like nobody’s business. She was a blast. What’s not to love? After chatting a little more and learning that he was 36, it was clear that Bitch Tits was ready to put a ring on it. In general.
Bitch Tits and I made out some more at the end of a dark hallway, but I had enough and wanted to get more drinks and dance. The band was really good. Bitch Tits was nice but was getting a tad annoying. And it’s not because he didn’t buy me a drink. That was understandable seeing as I had two on the go usually anyway. For instance I’d be talking to someone else, like trying to pick up the bass player and he’d just show up. Or I’d be in conversation with his colleagues and he’d announce that he needed to go make a phone call. Okay then go ahead. Oh wait that was code for you want to go make out some more? Holy hell who am I, Tom Hanks in The Da Vinci Code? How am I supposed to decipher that? Everybody’s drunk, so just come out and say so.
I don’t really remember too much about how it wrapped up but I did give him my phone number. His name escapes me *just a touch*, and the pocket full of business cards that I found in my pocket this morning weren’t any help either. (Darn it! I need to start writing on them. One of them was a gentleman that comes to Toronto several times a month for business and I was going to be his dinner companion when he was here. Shit. Well poof goes all my rapid checkmarks beside restaurants I’ve wanted to try. My life is so hard.)
And that is the story of Bitch Tits. And all the little SOS’ers lived happily ever after.
Here’s a little something for your listening pleasure. Makes for some good in chair dancing at a desk on a sunny Friday.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYbjai1itQQ
Have a great weekend everybody! I’m heading out of the city for the weekend for a family affair. And I don’t care how many points that scores, I ain’t going there.
Love to luv ya,
Pamma Lamma Ding Dong (ha ha!)
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