Paper Towel Fellatio

Today I have to go into the office, which means getting dressed in something that isn't sweat pants with a ketchup stain on the lap (I'm clumsy) and a shirt that doesn't have charming sayings on it like, "I Love Gringos." (Because I do). So what did I do last night? Go out with co-workers to have a bon voyage happy hour party for another co-worker who is leaving this week. A couple drinks, some nibbles, wish him good luck and call it good.

Well, that was the plan anyways.

A "handful" of drinks later along with a free shot of tequila (shudders) from a couple of blow up dolls (their boobs defied gravity, it was practically a part of their chin), we were all using our outdoor voices as we discussed the best porn sites we've ever been to and other appropriate dinner time talk. ("Did you say polenta or placenta?! I'm not eating that if it's the latter!!") Mmm, hmm, we were the toast of the town in La Jolla last night (like the Beverly Hills of San Diego, so we were surrounded by desperate housewives cougar types, inheritance babies, and old rich guys.) When we were told that we were being "too rowdy" and "too loud" for the dinner patrons above us (we were at the bar, dinner folk were above us), we of course immediately started shushing each other at an even louder decibel than we were talking at.
"Karen! Tone it down a notch!"
"WHAT?!"
"LOUD! you're being too loud! You're getting us in trouble!'
"Fuck this place and their placenta covered food!"
" hAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Upon trying unsuccessfully to keep our voices down, and the waitress "threatening' to stop the drinks, one of our angry drunks spoke with the owner about the bullshit (because seriously, there was music and other people talking loud, we were the only ones that happened to have the largest group) and bam, lo and behold we got a round of drinks free. More merriment and some drunk texts and drunk pictures taken:

Our first drunken attempt:


We finally held it steady:


Drunk face:


Then sometime around one a.m. I remembered it was Thursday (well, technically it was already Friday) and I wasn't 23 anymore (damn red bull started wearing off). I finally got home at around 2:00 am and now I am the walking dead. I'm not hung over thank goodness because I'm an expert at stopping that shit from happening (if my cheeks start getting tingly, I know to stop drinking and I'm sure that hearty meal of bacon and cheddar wedges from Jack In The Box helped too. Damn, after party food is the BEST!) No headache, just tired and my mouth feels like I gave fellatio to a roll of paper towels, it is SOO BEYOND cotton mouth.

My point?
It's going to be another Fan Letter Whenever The Hell I Want because I have to get ready for work now and have a Big Gulp of coffee.

Thank you for patronage.