alcohol + tanning = ewwwwww

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I have a good story to share today. But first I will describe my day, just the highlights:

  • Apparently, per my son, I have been pronouncing “butt-whoopin'” all wrong all this time. It is in actuality, “whoop-buttin'”. Noted.
  • I am a magnet for guys looking for trashy women. Today’s hall-of-famer Cletus The Eternal Optimist, age 20, greets us from Washington:Cletus: i wanna get on top of u…lol

    2N: [oh for the love of pete.] Are you kidding me? What kind of crap is that?

    Cletus: i’m imagining

    2N: I find it interesting that you think that what you said to me is anywhere near in the neighborhood of an appropriate comment to a woman that you don’t even know. So you know, you have shot your chance of EVER being in that position right straight down the toilet. Enjoy!

    Cletus: wtf r u talking about. r u stupid? that was a joke u mf.

    2N: blocked.Now, there’s two things about the above that I find fascinating. One is, I don’t think I’ve ever been called a motherfucker before, especially from a guy, not even shorthand.

    Secondly, he’s asking if I’m stupid.

  • I continue to be amazed at the way traffic can pile up in the middle of the day. Re-friggin-dick-ulous. I can never figure out if it’s because of the people like the asswipe in front of me who’s allowing like 5 carlengths between him and the next person in 5-mile-per-hour traffic, or the dicksmudge behind me who is about half way up my tailpipe and chainsmoking out his window.
  • 2N No coffee till 2:00 PM = 2 almost car wrecks, one prolonged honk, and one beat down Dog.
  • Received responses from G-Money Lime-Aid, who assures us that he was not making fun of me, but in fact, quote, “ur hot as hell”. Also received a response from the infamously literate M.A.S.H.B.O.T.: “well ill be ok. write me back.”. I havent. I did, however, reject three friend requests, accept two, and block Cletus. It’s been a good day.

Now on to the good stuff:

First off, I love my friends. They give me great material and don’t mind if I blog about it. Today’s story is a lesson in what happens when you combine alcohol, jet-lag, a tanning bed, and No N.

First: some background. No N has been in CA this week, and upon arriving at the airport for her return trip, engaged in her ritualistic (mind you, this is not limited to “normal” drinking hours – she’ll do it any time of day. Screw the “no drinking till noon” rule.) alcohol consumption prior to a flight. This is because No N is really just petrified of flying. So she figures that a hot chick (drunk) on a plane is less likely to perish in a plummet from the skies.

Okay that might be true, but really I think it’s because she doesn’t want to be conscious during said plummet.

At any rate, in contrast to my OWN flying experiences (refer to blog of March 24), she arrived earlier than scheduled and decided to squeeze in some time under the artificial sunlamp provided by the fabulous establishment that IS AquaTan. Upon arriving at this illustrious locale, she scheduled her tanning session for twenty minutes, (with, of course, the full intent of flipping after 10 minutes.

Now, the bed in which said flipping was to occur happened to have brand new bulbs. Which, she was kind enough to explain to my pasty ass self, means that they are HOTTER. So the part in which alcohol should not be consumed prior to abovementioned tanning experience, comes in as we witness No N and her Famous Napping Experiment in said tanning bed. With NEW bulbs. Now THAT is hott.

Apparently, the our naked adventuress refused to wake, despite several attempts on the part of the young and terrified staff and her carpool/traveling companion. These feeble attempts at waking our sleeping beauty included but were not limited to: knocking and shouting outside her tanning room door and pounding on top of said tanning bed. Again, let me remind you, NEW bulbs, NO flipping.

Needless to say, when our intoxicated and still sleepy heroine exited the tanning bed, she looked like this:

Will-Ferrell-sunburn

Okay, not really. She’s not Will Farrell – but you get the general idea.

As she just informed me, her butt is still on fire. Have I mentioned that I love my friends?

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