An honest seven-year-old admitted calmly to her parents that Billy Brown had kissed her after class.
"How did that happen?" gasped her mother.
"It wasn't easy," admitted the young lady, "but three girls helped me catch him."
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Very Shortened list of Bar Laws.................the quick read before you go out tonight.
- Never borrow lighters
- Never give your phone number to the bartender
- Never agree to be wing man/woman unless you know how to get rid of people
- Always carry lipgloss and a powder compact
- Always go to crowded venues (if you don't, you will be a target of atleast three ugly males there)
- Do NOT try to sing the words of a song you do not know (this applies to every drunk girl thinking she knows the words to More than a Feeling when, clearly, she does not)
- Never hit on the band member while he's on stage. Seriously, don't try it.
- Ok, this is a rough subject, but, ladies please. If you are seriously overweight, do not try and pull off a mini skirt with leggings. That's bad.
- There is a difference between classy cleaveage and porn star cleaveage. FYI: classy-good porn star-bad
- It is ok to kiss the boy toys you just met in a bar. Sometimes. But it is never ok to go home with some guy you just met, dear.
- When enjoying the karaoke, you must never think you are Mariah Carey. No matter WHAT your bestie tells you. Unless of course, you are Mariah Carey.
- Free beer is good. Free shots are good. Free mixies are good.
- When a guy offers you free shots, beer and mixies all together that's bad. And you may want to keep your drink with you.
- Never get on stage with the band. Ever. Even if it is your birthday. Trust me.
- Get the guy. Get the drinks. Then get outta there. Never give your real phone number. Ever.
- Learn the man rules of bar flirting so you know what you are up against. They have wing men/women too. So be careful.
- Never consider going to a different bar WITH a guy. You may go by yourself or your bestie. But you will not go with a guy. This means, in his head, that you are there with him. (essentially ruining the "walk" through the front door)........which is where you make your first impressions.
- Guys watch the door for prospects. Some men have finally figured out, if a girl comes in with a guy, she's taken. That's why I recommend taking your brother/male cousin with you to a bar if you want to go out but you both want to avoid being hit on.
- I cannot fully stress this point enough. Do NOT borrow lighters......(seriously, just wear something with pockets so you don't lose yours.)
- Stuffing things in your bra is sooo 1985 grandma style. You may have nice tatas. But that doesn't mean that the bartender wants to touch money you pull out of your sweaty underboob. Seriously, ladies. Let's be classy....not trashy.
- If for some reason you think you may be wanting to give him your real phone number.......don't. I don't care...........Don't.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
The Rocker and The Cowboy
Hello guys it's Van... yes Van. I couldn't let Vic have all the fun and post all the stories... especially when the good ones are the ones I am sure she would rather not share... like this one. =)
Back around the time of the dinosaurs when Vic and I were both single, we truly were heck on heels. One weekend we were having a hard time decided on where to go. I being the rock and roll diva wanted to check out the new rock cover band and Vic being the 80’s glam diva that she is wanted to check out our regular 80’s rock band. Finally we decided to go see the new rock band on one condition… if I am Vic’s wing woman for any hotties. Now Vic has fabulous taste in guys for the most part and this was a rock concert. If it is tattooed and pierced and has a Mohawk sign me up!!
About half way through the show Vic has her eyes set on none other than the lead singer. Vic is nothing if not efficient in the ways of getting the boy she wants. I kid you not five minutes after deciding he was the one for the night she is at the bar having his best friend buy her drinks and getting filled in on all the dirty gossip. I look on with dread when I notice that while the lead singer is a hot rocker … the best friend is none other than a dip chewing boots flannel and hat wearing cowboy. Now I understand that for a lot of girls this is very attractive, for me not so much. However, I had dragged Vic to this rock show in promise of being her wing woman so I put on my smile and went forth to do my duty as the band was taking a break. McSinger came right over and Vic started working her magic while I kept McCowboy distracted. Long story short Vic got her free drinks and make out session with the beautiful lead singer and I got a cowboy stalker who got my number out of Vic’s phone and insisted on calling me and leaving me a million messages about his undying love for me. Not cool dude… not cool at all.
Back around the time of the dinosaurs when Vic and I were both single, we truly were heck on heels. One weekend we were having a hard time decided on where to go. I being the rock and roll diva wanted to check out the new rock cover band and Vic being the 80’s glam diva that she is wanted to check out our regular 80’s rock band. Finally we decided to go see the new rock band on one condition… if I am Vic’s wing woman for any hotties. Now Vic has fabulous taste in guys for the most part and this was a rock concert. If it is tattooed and pierced and has a Mohawk sign me up!!
About half way through the show Vic has her eyes set on none other than the lead singer. Vic is nothing if not efficient in the ways of getting the boy she wants. I kid you not five minutes after deciding he was the one for the night she is at the bar having his best friend buy her drinks and getting filled in on all the dirty gossip. I look on with dread when I notice that while the lead singer is a hot rocker … the best friend is none other than a dip chewing boots flannel and hat wearing cowboy. Now I understand that for a lot of girls this is very attractive, for me not so much. However, I had dragged Vic to this rock show in promise of being her wing woman so I put on my smile and went forth to do my duty as the band was taking a break. McSinger came right over and Vic started working her magic while I kept McCowboy distracted. Long story short Vic got her free drinks and make out session with the beautiful lead singer and I got a cowboy stalker who got my number out of Vic’s phone and insisted on calling me and leaving me a million messages about his undying love for me. Not cool dude… not cool at all.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Bar Laws
Okay so Van and I were having one of our LLS's at our favorite spot. We had already had two drinks each when I (at the time, single) spot the cutie running the bar.
VAN: Are you gonna say anything to him or are you just gonna stare at his rump all day?
VIC: I'll take rump for 500, Alex.
VAN: Vic......seriously? You are Vic. You don't shy away from the boy toys.
VIC: You're right. So, I'll just leave him my phone number??
VAN: That'll work. So, why are you nervous?
VIC: Wanna tell me you wouldn't be?
So Van and I finished our drinks and bad girl, fat inducing cheese fries then finally, to my dismay (somewhat), the check came. Which meant I had to leave my name and phone number. Because I had already told Van I would....and Vic doesn't back down. There I was scrambling to scribble [call me: Vic 555-5555] before the bartender walked up to take the cash. I did it in record time. He came to pick up the money, I grabbed my purse and prepared to follow Van to the door when all of a sudden I see Van staring wide-eyed at the brunette girl behind the bar. Who is reading my phone number over the cuties shoulder........who happens to be WITH cutie bartender guy. Who looks up at me with disgust.
VAN: Walk away, Vic. Walk away.
VIC: Well excuse me for hitting on the cute guy in the bar. Geez. When did they outlaw that? I'll just add that to illegal lighter borrowing in bars. Note to self. Bar law 1: Don't try to borrow lighters. Bar law 2: Don't give the bartender your phone number.
VAN: You are taking this way too personally, Vic.
VIC: I'll just stay out of bars altogether.
UNISON: Yeah, right.
VAN: Are you gonna say anything to him or are you just gonna stare at his rump all day?
VIC: I'll take rump for 500, Alex.
VAN: Vic......seriously? You are Vic. You don't shy away from the boy toys.
VIC: You're right. So, I'll just leave him my phone number??
VAN: That'll work. So, why are you nervous?
VIC: Wanna tell me you wouldn't be?
So Van and I finished our drinks and bad girl, fat inducing cheese fries then finally, to my dismay (somewhat), the check came. Which meant I had to leave my name and phone number. Because I had already told Van I would....and Vic doesn't back down. There I was scrambling to scribble [call me: Vic 555-5555] before the bartender walked up to take the cash. I did it in record time. He came to pick up the money, I grabbed my purse and prepared to follow Van to the door when all of a sudden I see Van staring wide-eyed at the brunette girl behind the bar. Who is reading my phone number over the cuties shoulder........who happens to be WITH cutie bartender guy. Who looks up at me with disgust.
VAN: Walk away, Vic. Walk away.
VIC: Well excuse me for hitting on the cute guy in the bar. Geez. When did they outlaw that? I'll just add that to illegal lighter borrowing in bars. Note to self. Bar law 1: Don't try to borrow lighters. Bar law 2: Don't give the bartender your phone number.
VAN: You are taking this way too personally, Vic.
VIC: I'll just stay out of bars altogether.
UNISON: Yeah, right.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Vic and Van go redneck
So Van and I felt like a drink one night and decided that our normal bar was way too far away. Of course, there is always going to the liquor store and watching the twilight saga or sex in the city marathons, but we had done enough of that for a while. Time to get out and get the heels a'movin. So we wound up at a bar just inside the county line.
Crazy as it may seem, Van and I don't normally do the boot-scootin boogie. Not on a regular basis anyway, however......I saw the sign lit up in the window that read my hearts calling. KARAOKE.
When Van and I finally made our way through the gravel parking lot after turning over ankles, scuffing heels and periodically jolting a look toward the gravel like IT had done something wrong, we made it to the door. We fixed our hair and contained any violent eruptions of rage that were about to pass through over the gravel and stepped inside where a rather burly mountain man was seated and taking money and I.D.'s. We handed it over and went directly to the bar lest anyone should see us and start talking.
It didnt take long before two drinks a piece were down and the necessity of my shoes wasn't quite as apparent. The music became more and more fun with every song and I was just about ready to sign my name to the karaoke sheet and sing something_anything_ by Reba. Oh, yes, times were good.
Before we knew it, we were talking to some group of people wearing cowboy hats and I ALMOST had Van completely talked into singing with me.
ME: C'mon Van, we can sing anything you want. Just get up there. It's so much fun!
VAN: Seriously, no Vic. Just........no.
ME: I'll buy your next two drinks and get cowboy hat over there to dance with me if you do.
VAN: Didin't you mean to say "dance with you"?
ME: No, I totally meant me.
VAN: Do you even know how to dance like this??
ME: Nu-uh.
VAN: Oh dear Lord, we're saying things like "nu-uh" and "Y'all".
ME: Awesome, huh?
Yeah, so Van and I had a blast. She finally got up there and sang a song with me and I danced with cowboy hat guy. Although it wasn't the guy I meant when I offered to do it, Van said that she got to choose because she was doing karoke for me so I had to make her laugh in exchange.
*reaaal funny, Van*
The night was a blast and I even tried the absolute cheapest beer in the place, and you know what? It was awful and so much fun that I'll never drink any other kind of beer. (oh and the beer was in a can.) Turns out, that was the most fun I have ever had at a bar. Van too.
And to top it off, we are considering going MUD RIDING. In the mud. Outside. Where the dirt is.
Oh yeah, it was that much fun.
Crazy as it may seem, Van and I don't normally do the boot-scootin boogie. Not on a regular basis anyway, however......I saw the sign lit up in the window that read my hearts calling. KARAOKE.
When Van and I finally made our way through the gravel parking lot after turning over ankles, scuffing heels and periodically jolting a look toward the gravel like IT had done something wrong, we made it to the door. We fixed our hair and contained any violent eruptions of rage that were about to pass through over the gravel and stepped inside where a rather burly mountain man was seated and taking money and I.D.'s. We handed it over and went directly to the bar lest anyone should see us and start talking.
It didnt take long before two drinks a piece were down and the necessity of my shoes wasn't quite as apparent. The music became more and more fun with every song and I was just about ready to sign my name to the karaoke sheet and sing something_anything_ by Reba. Oh, yes, times were good.
Before we knew it, we were talking to some group of people wearing cowboy hats and I ALMOST had Van completely talked into singing with me.
ME: C'mon Van, we can sing anything you want. Just get up there. It's so much fun!
VAN: Seriously, no Vic. Just........no.
ME: I'll buy your next two drinks and get cowboy hat over there to dance with me if you do.
VAN: Didin't you mean to say "dance with you"?
ME: No, I totally meant me.
VAN: Do you even know how to dance like this??
ME: Nu-uh.
VAN: Oh dear Lord, we're saying things like "nu-uh" and "Y'all".
ME: Awesome, huh?
Yeah, so Van and I had a blast. She finally got up there and sang a song with me and I danced with cowboy hat guy. Although it wasn't the guy I meant when I offered to do it, Van said that she got to choose because she was doing karoke for me so I had to make her laugh in exchange.
*reaaal funny, Van*
The night was a blast and I even tried the absolute cheapest beer in the place, and you know what? It was awful and so much fun that I'll never drink any other kind of beer. (oh and the beer was in a can.) Turns out, that was the most fun I have ever had at a bar. Van too.
And to top it off, we are considering going MUD RIDING. In the mud. Outside. Where the dirt is.
Oh yeah, it was that much fun.
Liquid Lunch Sundays
Van and I started this Sunday lunch (excuse to drink girly mixed drinks) that we adoringly named Liquid Lunch Sundays. SO anywho, during our LLS's we get a little schnakered and then....go shopping. That's right. We liquor ourselves up and then go make a whole buncha last second-red tagged-oh those shoes are TOO cute not to get for 89.95-totally gonna return this when I sober up*- kind of purchases.
*We DO NOT drink and drive. Our restaurant is located within the shopping center and we simply walk and shop until driving is once again ok.
So we are in the store browsing around when I spy this totally cute black and grey number. Well, Van. being the wonderfully honest friend she is tells me that it would be a great way to motivate myself to lose the weight. (A lil on the chunky side after the pregnancy.....ok,ok, and waaayyy before that, too.)
I decided she was right so I bought it. Two sizes too small. And now what do I have?? A dress that I cannot wear (yet) because in a haste I knew if I ripped the tag off I wouldn't be able to return it and therefore would force myself to do all the leg lifts-side lunges-jumping jacks. However, it seems that grey and black cotton do not yell at you like a drill sgt. from the closet. It's more like it says 'Go ahead, I'll be here when you get ready.'
*sigh*
So I called Van. What did she suggest? That's right. More LLS's and shopping so I feel better.
*I already see that this is a downward spiral but do not care*
She was right. Always is. I did feel better and found a really cute top that I could wear. Things were going great.......
*cue the super skinny gorgeous sales girl*
SALESGIRL: Can I help you find anything?
ME: Sure, do you have anything to match this top?
SALESGIRL: UM, not in that size.
VAN: Walk away, Vic. Walk away.
*Let's just say I have a history of over-reacting to stupid people.*
I gently spun around and began walking toward the shoes. Van followed while I put the top back down and revived my good spirits. Salesgirl, obviously not realizing what she had done comes prancing over to me with a match to the top.
SALESGIRL: Ma'am we have this one, but it's two sizes too small. Last one in stock AND it's on sale.
I glance slyly over at Van, who shrugs while giving me a "It's your call" look.
ME: Seriously, Van?
I know Van well enough to know that she has an opinion about everything clothes and fashion. I also know that the only time Van says nothing is when she has too much to say. I grin gleefully at her and take the item from skinnys hand and glance over it a bit.
ME: I'll take it.
VAN: Do you think this will help your goal?
SALESGIRL: Who are you getting the bottoms for if the top is yours?
VAN: Dear God.........................
*We DO NOT drink and drive. Our restaurant is located within the shopping center and we simply walk and shop until driving is once again ok.
So we are in the store browsing around when I spy this totally cute black and grey number. Well, Van. being the wonderfully honest friend she is tells me that it would be a great way to motivate myself to lose the weight. (A lil on the chunky side after the pregnancy.....ok,ok, and waaayyy before that, too.)
I decided she was right so I bought it. Two sizes too small. And now what do I have?? A dress that I cannot wear (yet) because in a haste I knew if I ripped the tag off I wouldn't be able to return it and therefore would force myself to do all the leg lifts-side lunges-jumping jacks. However, it seems that grey and black cotton do not yell at you like a drill sgt. from the closet. It's more like it says 'Go ahead, I'll be here when you get ready.'
*sigh*
So I called Van. What did she suggest? That's right. More LLS's and shopping so I feel better.
*I already see that this is a downward spiral but do not care*
She was right. Always is. I did feel better and found a really cute top that I could wear. Things were going great.......
*cue the super skinny gorgeous sales girl*
SALESGIRL: Can I help you find anything?
ME: Sure, do you have anything to match this top?
SALESGIRL: UM, not in that size.
VAN: Walk away, Vic. Walk away.
*Let's just say I have a history of over-reacting to stupid people.*
I gently spun around and began walking toward the shoes. Van followed while I put the top back down and revived my good spirits. Salesgirl, obviously not realizing what she had done comes prancing over to me with a match to the top.
SALESGIRL: Ma'am we have this one, but it's two sizes too small. Last one in stock AND it's on sale.
I glance slyly over at Van, who shrugs while giving me a "It's your call" look.
ME: Seriously, Van?
I know Van well enough to know that she has an opinion about everything clothes and fashion. I also know that the only time Van says nothing is when she has too much to say. I grin gleefully at her and take the item from skinnys hand and glance over it a bit.
ME: I'll take it.
VAN: Do you think this will help your goal?
SALESGIRL: Who are you getting the bottoms for if the top is yours?
VAN: Dear God.........................
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Crazy drunk girlfriend............
Van and I walked into the bar, heels a glowing. We always try to go see our favorite band play when we can. And absolutely, it is an 80's cover band, because Van and I know good music when we hear it, thank you. So anywho, we are dancing and shaking our groove thang when all of a sudden my nicotine habit flares up again.
Yes, I smoke. Let's not make a big deal of it please.
*inhale**exhale*
So I see this tall, rather round version of one of my more GIG exes. (GIG is a term Van and I use to describe a relationship that is thankfully over. Glad It's Gone)
Well, of course he is smoking. And guess what. Yeah, somewhere in all the shuffle and noise I have lost my lighter. Yay me. So, like any normal human would do, I walk up to the guy and poke him on the shoulder while making the universal thumb motion lighter sign at the end of my cigarette.
And before the words "Excuse me sir, May I borrow your lighter?" can exit my mouth, this obviously extremely drunk, muffin-topped, Monica Lewinsky look-alike throws her hand on top of mine and snatches it off.
Keep in mind that all the while, Van is still shaking her rump listening to the band play.
I blankly stare at her like she has lost her darn mind. Then she starts screaming like a banshee...."Don't you EVER touch my boyfriend! Don't you ever touch him!!"
*insert tire screeching noise here*
Well, I WAS having a good night. I'm sorry, I didn't know they outlawed lighter borrowing, ma'am. Also, when did they start allowing white-trash into my bar?
And me, being the all-too-nice person I hate being sometimes, threw my hands up and walked away.
Finally, after finding Van and being able to tell her about my run in with psycho muffin-top girl, she suggests I go illegally borrow a lighter from the bartender since that is the safest bet. Lo and behold, who do I see? None other than round GIG look alike trying to buy two more drinks.
Yay me. But at this point I don't care, so I go ahead and ask the bartender for a lighter (who doesn't have one) and I am seriously about to rip someone's head off and throw it over the bar if I don't find a lighter. So GIG looking guy kindly slides his lighter to me across the table without saying a word and I light my cigarette. As I am about to walk away, he turns to me and says "Hey I'm sorry about her. And stuff like that is exactly the reason I'm breaking up with her."
*insert tire screeching noise here*
I stood....MERRILY dumbfounded. I walked right over to Monica muffin-top (oh, why are your pants so tight?) and simply stated "I only wanted to borrow a lighter, but it seems you have burned yourself, ma'am."
And with that, Van and I had an altogether vivacious night of rockin' 80's music with our heels-a-movin and I SWEAR as Van and I exited the building later that night, walking right past the cheery couple, the band started playing "*and it's sweeeeet, sweeet, sweet VICtory.*"
Van and I both uttered a humble "Amen."
Yes, I smoke. Let's not make a big deal of it please.
*inhale**exhale*
So I see this tall, rather round version of one of my more GIG exes. (GIG is a term Van and I use to describe a relationship that is thankfully over. Glad It's Gone)
Well, of course he is smoking. And guess what. Yeah, somewhere in all the shuffle and noise I have lost my lighter. Yay me. So, like any normal human would do, I walk up to the guy and poke him on the shoulder while making the universal thumb motion lighter sign at the end of my cigarette.
And before the words "Excuse me sir, May I borrow your lighter?" can exit my mouth, this obviously extremely drunk, muffin-topped, Monica Lewinsky look-alike throws her hand on top of mine and snatches it off.
Keep in mind that all the while, Van is still shaking her rump listening to the band play.
I blankly stare at her like she has lost her darn mind. Then she starts screaming like a banshee...."Don't you EVER touch my boyfriend! Don't you ever touch him!!"
*insert tire screeching noise here*
Well, I WAS having a good night. I'm sorry, I didn't know they outlawed lighter borrowing, ma'am. Also, when did they start allowing white-trash into my bar?
And me, being the all-too-nice person I hate being sometimes, threw my hands up and walked away.
Finally, after finding Van and being able to tell her about my run in with psycho muffin-top girl, she suggests I go illegally borrow a lighter from the bartender since that is the safest bet. Lo and behold, who do I see? None other than round GIG look alike trying to buy two more drinks.
Yay me. But at this point I don't care, so I go ahead and ask the bartender for a lighter (who doesn't have one) and I am seriously about to rip someone's head off and throw it over the bar if I don't find a lighter. So GIG looking guy kindly slides his lighter to me across the table without saying a word and I light my cigarette. As I am about to walk away, he turns to me and says "Hey I'm sorry about her. And stuff like that is exactly the reason I'm breaking up with her."
*insert tire screeching noise here*
I stood....MERRILY dumbfounded. I walked right over to Monica muffin-top (oh, why are your pants so tight?) and simply stated "I only wanted to borrow a lighter, but it seems you have burned yourself, ma'am."
And with that, Van and I had an altogether vivacious night of rockin' 80's music with our heels-a-movin and I SWEAR as Van and I exited the building later that night, walking right past the cheery couple, the band started playing "*and it's sweeeeet, sweeet, sweet VICtory.*"
Van and I both uttered a humble "Amen."
The good ol days.......
Here's a little background info for you. I met Van in high school, but we didn't become great gal pals until about two years ago. And ever since then it has been hell on heels. Prada, to be exact. Now that Van is married and I have a boyfriend plus three, we can't exactly spend all the time in the world together. So, to fill in those voids (when we can't get together for liquid lunch Sundays) I decided to write about those glamorous (and some not so glamorous) times that keeps our VicandVan bond strong. Ah, to the good ol days..................
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