Confessions of A Naughty Girl

A Chapped Lip, A Teabag Scuffle, and Booooooooog

I realize that "most inconsistent posting of the week" should probably be awarded to me, and I apologize. But I do have many legitimate excuses for this.

First, and most importantly, my upper lip is chapped. Yes, the one on my face, you sick f*ck. This ailment has been plaguing me for days, and while it's annoying and weird, perhaps what is most disturbing is that I have actually lost sleep the past few days thinking about why my upper lip is chapped, but the lower lip is fine. I have come up with a few theories, none of which I care to share in this post, but perhaps another time.

One of my co-workers had a farewell happy hour tonight, and as usual, I succeeded in causing much turmoil. It all began when my friend Andrew and I started a debate about teabagging. Basically, I argued that the term is defined as the "bag" going into the "mouth", and he defined it as the "bag" going somewhere - anywhere - onto someone's "face". This slight disagreement in origin had approximately 20 people up in arms, taking sides on whether it was the face or the mouth, and at one point, I believe that Andrew, D'Abreu, and Matt were in one another's faces, yelling and pointing fingers. Ding! Mission accomplished.

My second mission was to bring back the arm wrestling tournament. A couple of weeks ago, I spearheaded an arm-wrestling initiative. All it took was one challenge to my friend Jay, and the next thing you know, the group of 30 of us had six tables lined up on the side of the bar and set up a round-robin tournament with referees and everything. It was phenomenal. Definitely one of my prouder moments. So tonight, bringing it back was so simple - all I had to do was mention it, offer to wrestle someone, and let the mayhem begin. And, of course, I got my wish. Ding! Mission accomplished.

There really is no explanation for the third section of this post title, other than to say that I met some old guy at the bar from Smyrna. His name was Booooooooog (short "o"). Booooooooooog and I became really good friends...or at least I thought so. I kept calling him Booooooooooog. He was a tool. It made me laugh. End of story.

I know I'm a little behind on my Thanksgiving 2005 report, but that is going to have to wait for the weekend. I turn 25 on Sunday, so the next two days of my life are going to be a little hectic. My dear old Humpo is throwing a happy hour in my honor tomorrow night after work, followed by a trip to the happiest place on Earth, Happy Karaoke. My sister is throwing a separate - yet totally necessary - party in my honor on Saturday night at a bar in Buckhead. I don't care, as long as the booze is a-flowing and the good-looking men are hello-in. (Sorry, horrible rhyme, but I'm still a little buzzed from drinking with Booooooog.)

Take care. We'll talk soon.

posted by KA @ 10:32 PM