Well, my Lovelys, my brain is completely devoid today of all the fabulous ideas for posts I came up with last night when I was drunk. Piss me right off. This may be due to the fact that I started drinking 99 Blackberries when the sun was not yet setting. I figured out that I imbibed approximately 297 Blackberries altogether before running out and switching to Brandy. So, in the hope that I will magically remember the post ideas that have slipped my mind, I will retrace my steps…
I decided to have a drink a few minutes before my Rockstar got home from work. Of course, some unknown being ended up drinking the whole thing when I wasn’t looking. I don’t understand how that happened. So I had to get up and refill my glass.
I was reading The Dirt, which is a bio of Motley Crue, and I remember wondering when I finally start our band, if my Rockstar would be willing to wear red leather lace-up pants during our shows. I had a perfect chance to ask him this very question, since he walked in the door at that very moment. Sadly, I do not know what his answer was, because my 99 berries had started seeping into my bloodstream at that point, and my brain had already moved on to another subject.
I fixed my Rockstar a purpley Brandy drink while he mixed together some Leini beer that smelled like butt and some V8. (Gross) We then ended up listening to some music- which led to a discussion about the validity of Madonna’s talent. It seems my Rockstar likes Madonna simply because she pushed the boundaries of societies approval while having next to no talent. (The same reason why he likes Motley Crue). I then informed him of my very strong opinion that he should greatly admire Lady GaGa , since she has essentially done the same thing.
Lady GaGa came up because we were listening to a fantastical new band we found called Semi-Precious Weapons, which consists of a bunch of dudes dressed like women. It turns out that Lady GaGa helped these dudes to get there start. I am not quite certain of their actual musical talent; however, one of there songs begins with the lyrics, “I can’t pay my rent but I’m fuckin’ gorgeous”, and since thes lyrics apply to me, I was instantly hooked.
The conversation then turned to David Bowie, and his utter sensuality despite the fact that he dressed like Ziggy Stardust and can clothes-swap with his wife without looking like a dork. I will admit, if I was to see David on the street, I would willingly take my clothes off and jump his bones if he asked me to.
My Rockstar decided at that point that he was tiring of watching men dressed as women pretend to play guitar, so we turned on some lubetube. For those of you that may not know it, lubetube is just like youtube, except the people in the videos are naked and having sex. In other words, porn. Wooo!
My Rockstar prefers for me to find the appropriately provacative videos, but is very adamant about changing them when they don’t appeal. He seems to like the blonde girls with no boobies, which is the complete opposite of what I look for, so he is the one who ends up picking the videos. He surprisingly found a very fun video of a gorgeous girl with orangey hair. After I sat on his naked lap and wiggled around alot, we decided to eat pizza.
Sidenote: I must tell you, this reminiscing is not getting me any closer to remembering the wonderful post ideas I am trying to think of.
I had brought a beautiful pizza home that I made at work the other night, and we were going to warm it up. There then happened to be a discussion over who’s side was who’s, since mine had yum yum onions on it and his consisted of ham and pepperoni. The discussion grew heated when we were unable to tell, since much extra cheese was sprinkled over the defining toppings. In the end, I said I was too drunk to care to just heat the damn pizza up already.
Last night’s TV featured the American Country Awards, which, when I think about it, kinda sucked ass. The upside is that Trace Adkins hosted. Trace is a sexy, successful version of a pot-smoking ex-uncle-in-law that I used to have, and his deep rumbly voice and long long hairs make my panties bunch (in a good way). The Band Perry sang (with my accompaniment) while my Rockstar pointed out that they should be renamed A Girl and Two Fairies (he means this in the most amiable way possible) since we are convinced the lead singer’s two brothers are completely and beautifully gay. After my obeservation that Blake Shelton’s eyes are creepily buggy, to my delight, Alabama performed.
Now, perhaps if I were to hear them for the first time today, I would not be as fascinated with Alabama as I am, but of all the music my momma listend to when I was a wee child, Alabama and Kenny Rogers are the only two singer/ bands that I remember. This has given them a special place in my heart, and I squealed with drunken excitement to find out that they will be touring again. I stated to my Rockstar that we must most definitely go see them live, and then I got distracted by his lap and started to grind on him. We decided we had seen enough country western singers for the night.
After more naked fun time, it was time for sleep. Apparently though, 99 Blackberries is infused with a Red-Bull-like substance, and sleep evaded me. I spent the rest of the night getting a glass of water EVERY HOUR, since I was to tired to do anything else. I also happened to drink a liter of pop when water lost it’s appeal.
Well, I guess there’s nothing more to say, except that was a completely unsuccessful way for me to figure out what I was going to write about today.
P.S. I got bitten in the ass and have finger print bruises on my thigh, so apparently the sex was even better than I remember….