It’s been a long-ass time since I checked my wallet and realized that I was stupidly low on cash. So of course I decided to take a weekend road trip (HOORAY FOR POVERTY!). I commissioned Ginntastic and let her know I was in dire need of some toxic refreshments, and it took her all of two seconds to give me a when and where.
I got in on Friday, and our Vodkatronic weekend took effect immediately. Ginntastic and her cousin Ale-xis took me to Dick’s, a seafood place where the waitresses make fun of you and make you wear penis hats. I should totally work there.
The best part about Dick’s (besides the moniker, of course), was that the guy performing the awful Dave Matthews covers was seriously loaded.
PS- not to get all dramatic and mushy on you guys, because I’m so not like that, but Fanueil Hall is beautiful at night. If you haven’t been there, you really should go.
So, yeah. We also met this guy who was in totally in love with Ale-xis and followed her so closely all night she could feel his breath on her face. Not cool, A-hole. He looked like the Mad Magazine guy on a three-day coke bender if he’d just run a marathon. Try to picture that without dry-heaving.
So that was my low-key Friday. Saturday was spent pretending we were back in college, and by that I mean sleeping 'til three, having pizza for “breakfast,” and not going to class. Ginntastic introduced me to Boston’s Channel 38, which plays a spectacular array of food porn. I swear that you have never seen cakes that look as amazing as the shit I saw on those shows. We stared slackjawed at the TV until it was time to get ready to go out with Ale-xis and a couple of her ridiculously hot and awesome friends.
I don’t remember shit about Saturday night as a whole (haha… “hole”), but there’s some funny stuff that went down that’s forever sealed in my brain thanks to Facebook. I do remember that we bar-hopped until last call and that the pictures that I have show us getting progressively more hammered as the night wore on. Probably because we had Ben & Jerry's milkshakes for dinner. YES.
PS- Check out Gin’s “come over here” face.
The Harvard bar we started out at was actually a lot cooler than I expected. First of all, I didn’t think people at Harvard actually ventured off campus, but most of them were wasted (and, like, 11 years old. Am I really that ancient? I guess so, because I was ready for feetie pajamas at around 1am). Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I asked them to do math problems or something while they were drunk? “Add the shots in this drink! HAHAHA!”
All the specialty drinks were named after awesome songs, like the Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant,” and since we knew all this (or because we were taking semi-pornographic shots with my camera), the bartender was pretty into us. So, sobriety… that was an interesting concept.
In between downing shots and Facebook sexting with Mandy Moore, we did manage to meet a copious amount of tools. One of the guys that came over to talk to me mentioned that he loved live music, so I gave him my card and told him I know when a lot of shows are. This guy had NO shot with me or any of my friends, but I figured I would network. At 2am, I got a call from this tool accusing me of having a fake number. Uh, you’re actually talking to me, and I gave you my fucking business card, so how about you’re retarded? Also, you look like a rabbit on steroids. FAIL.
BTW, I have never heard so many Boston accents in my life as I did at that bar- and I’ve been to Red Sox games. It was hilarious.
After our 3am snack of- what else?- CRUNCHY NUGGETS!- we finally hit the sack.
I got super excited and a little turned on when I woke up later and there was a tiny hand on my boob, but it turned out it was just her cat. The last time I felt a nose on my leg was like, a year and a half ago, though, so I'll take it.
When Gin dropped me off at the bus on Sunday it was fucking nuts how sad I was to leave. When I do eventually have to go back to LA I’m going to be totally devastated, but let’s not think about that right now.
BTW, Ale-xis recently started a blog herself. She’s a little nervous about how she’ll be received because she’s dyslexic and her grammatical skills aren’t great, but to those that have the nerve to say anything, Go Fuck Yourself. Her blog actually has the word "dyslexic" in the title, which makes anyone who comments on her mistakes an idiot. The only reason I’m not going to link to it here is because she has pictures up from this weekend, and I’m still pretending I’m totally anonymous and not friends with 2/3 of you on Facebook, but I really admire her for putting herself out there on the Interwebs. Actually, I’m considering having her guest post for me. I’m in your corner, Dude!