Maybe Next Halloween?

Me: I have the best idea for a couples Halloween Costume. Ever. 

Andrew: Oh yeah? What is it? 

Me: I dress up like a hooker, and you give me a piggyback all night. 

Andrew: Ok... I don't get it. 

Me: What would I be in relation to you?

Andrew: ... A really clingy hooker? 

Me: A BACKHOE! 

A costume that would merge Andrew's interest in Heavy
Equipment and his love of scantily clad women.

 Yep, I'm the most clever person in the entire world.

In Case You Thought I was Joking About Being Invisible



 

I really wasn't. 

Proof, motherfuckers.

You know, Courtney only has three different letters than Christine. And four letters out of place.

But the C is definitely in the right place.

 

The Biggest Birthday Party Ever (A Person or Two Might have Called it a Local Bachelorette Party)

So last Friday, I went to my Birthday Party with two friends. It was fabulous. The bridal store really worked hard to make it the best party possible. Just for me.



Lawyer and Ginger, also known as Maid of Honour and Bride
to be, also known as awesome people to get drunk with.

We entered a beautiful banquet room at one of the best hotels in the city. There was a dance floor, a DJ booth, a Henna tattoo stand, a photo booth, the fashion runway, a lounge area and three separate bars (so I didn't have to wak more than 15 feet to get a cranberry-sourpuss-vodka, which I like to call a Party Hour Sweet & Sour).

There were also a bunch of servers offering hors d'oeuvres, but they kept presenting me with seafood, and I was all Haven't you seen The Little Mermaid? Shame on you for killing Sebastian and Flounder!

 

As soon as I got in, Lawyer started buying me drinks. I had no problems whatsoever with this.

 

After a drink or two and a visit to the photo booth, we watched the fashion show. Since I watch America's Next Top Model, I (irrationally) think I'm an amazing judge of runway-walking skills. This means I spent most of the fashion show critiquing the models for their sub-par walks. 

 

You're supposed to sell me the dress. Work it, damnit!

  

Horrible posture and arms, although great attitude.




After the show, there were multiple draws to win prizes. I won a $10 gift card for a jewelry store where bracelets start at around $150. When I got the card, I was like YAY BIRTHDAY PRESENT! Now I see that its basically like saving 7% or less on an item I couldn't afford unless I stopped spending money on cheese and chocolate. Which, let's face it, is never going to happen.

 

Oh, did I forget to mention that there were multiple half-naked men hired to throw lollipops at women and to socialize with the desperate single bridesmaids and the brides-to-be with low morals?

There was also a stripper that gave shows on her pole and taught some girls (and the half-naked men) some moves.

Sidenote: Before her show, the stripper was just walking around like everyone else. As soon as I saw her, I was like Bing-bing-bing! That's definitely a stripper. Turns out that I don't have much of a gaydar, but I do have a great stripperdar.

Us being women of incredible class, preferred to shun the men and grope each other instead.





There is 100% ass-groping going on in this picture.

We proceeded to drink some more.

 





I asked Ginger if it was appropriate to throw money at them.
She said it totally was.

Afterwards, we hit the dance floor, were I taught Ginger how to dance to Gangam Stye while Lawyer looked on disapprovingy (she is a hipster and absolutely refuses to join in any fads, unless they involve wine). After a while, the party planners kicked us off the dance floor so a Burlesque troop could perform.

Men were invited to attend the party after 10pm, but Andrew refused to join, so I sent him pictures of the show with the message See what you're missing? HALF-NAKED WOMEN SHAKING THEIR BOOBS AND ASSES!

 



We were clearly drunk at this point Also, notice the wasted
woman about to poledance in the background.

The night ended with some good old fashioned dancing to the Spice Girls. Then the girls said it was time to call the boys to take us all to our separate homes, since it would take them half an hour to get to us.

 

Because I was having a blast, I totally forgot that there were free limo rides, so as we got texts that our rides were here, the host of the party announced that the limos had arrived and were ready to take the first batch of drunk-ass girls home. Although I suggested that we could just send the boys back home and take the limo instead, both Lawyer and Ginger pointed out that that decision might lead to unfortunate consequences, such as ridiculously angry boyfriends.

 

Before we left, we took one last picture together:

 

 

This was the first attempt of the last picture of the night:

 

My liver didn't like me the morning after.

Blogiversary Year One: I'm Slowly Sucking Andrew into my World of Blogging.

I can't believe its actually been a year since I started sharing my neuroses and other abnormalities with the world.

I wanted to organize a Giveaway, but then I remembered I'm broke as hell. So instead, I'm sharing a Pinterest Board full of things Andrew likes. He refused to create his own account, but was willing to personally pick out things that he thought were awesome. So click here if you want to see pretty women and funny animal photos. Like this:

This picture makes Andrew laugh ridiculously hard every
single time he sees it. Every. Single. Time.

It's clearly a work in progress.

Sidenote: I was actually going to have a comment draw where the winner would get a creepy personal acronym poem like the ones I used to write in High School, but then I thought that might be pushing the envelope in the wrong direction. Pulling the envelope? I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore...

Thank you for loving my weirdness and sharing your own kick ass comments and stories.

Let's just Rename Andrew M. André Bibliothécaire and give him a Berret and Monocle.

Holy shit you guys.

I'm pretty sure Andrew was kidnapped last night and replaced by a clone/robot/cleverly disguised genius llama, cause some weird shit went on.

Sidenote: For those who didn't know/forgot, I'm French Canadian.

When talking to my dad on the phone, Andrew casually asked me Qu'est-ce qu'il dit?, which is French for "What's he saying?" Let me explain why this is so astounding. 

DIE, CHEVREUIL, DIE!

Andrew's knowledge of French can be categorized into three different subjects:

1. The basics, such as Bonjour, comment ça va, etc.
2. Most of the animals of the forest. That way, he can identify them in both languages before blowing their heads off.
3. Swear words. Lots of swear words. Pretty much all of the swear words.

This is the vocabulary of a French toddler, if that toddler happened to be raised by sailors with no parenting experience.

So the fact that Andrew was able to form an entire sentence completely on his own that, while being small in size, was filled with contractions and complicated structure is nothing short of a small miracle.

This is why I simply stared at him in awe, whispering "what did you say?!" Probably feeling extremely superior, he smugly repeated the question with a flawless French accent and walked away. I finished my call with my father and stayed on the couch, wondering who the hell I've been living with for the past 3 years.

Then, later in the same day, I turned away from the computer to find this:


Notice the bag of Teddy Grahams under the chair.
I was not joking about the Teddy Grahams.

Never, in the entire 4+ years I've been with Andrew, have I ever seen him read a book, never mind a novel.

Sure, I've seen him read books about guns and reloading gun shells, enjoy cowboy comic books and glance at hunting magazines, but never an actual book with over 100 pages. And no pictures.

I was so shocked, I took a picture of it as proof that it actually happened because otherwise, no one would believe me.