|Sunday, July 18th, 2010|
2:09a - Hair Done, Nails Done, Everything Did-- You Fancy, Huh?
GUESS WHAT I AM GOING TO GO SEE MY HUSBAND MICHAEL MCDONALD IN CONCERT ON THE 30th OF THIS MONTH.
Pardon me, I will be simultaneously peeing my pants and having a boner for the rest of the month, and likely a good part of August as well.
Veronica and I were up until 3 am yesterday making these amazing Jell-O shots. There are around 70 of them in my fridge right now as well as epic booze cake.
-Raspberry-Blackberry fusion Jell-O made with vodka with a fresh raspberry in the middle.
-Cherry Jell-O made with vodka and a maraschino cherry in the middle.
-Lime Jell-O with sour mix and rum (margarita shot) with either a pear cube or a grape in the middle.
I have to get up early to finish the berry blue ones before work-- vodka and peach Schnapps with maraschino cherry.
Epic booze cake:
Strawberry jello made with vodka and creme de cacao, with vodka/rum-soaked raspberries, cherries, peaches, pears and grapes. That's the first layer.
The second layer is chocolate pudding.
The third layer is crushed Oreo cookies so that it has a sort of pie-crust.
It's topped with chocolate Magic Shell and whipped cream.
We're all going to get drunk and die of diabetes at the same time.
All this was in prep for the last big RM party before Kevin moves to Texas. We're all preparing to cry buckets. At least, the girls are. The gentleman are just going to be more irritable for having lost one of their own.
That party is later on tonight. I have no idea what I'm still doing up apart from the fact that I am psychotic with hormones and it is hotter than Steve Buscemi over here.
I need Vicodin. Again. It's amazing how quickly time passes. Just yesterday it was seven months ago and I was up six pills and doing fine. Now I have one pill left and delirious enough with pain to use it. Mental tug of war.
I am thinking of getting a hysterectomy but am terrified of sprouting a moustache after I do so-- and with the early-onset menopause caused by such an operation, I should do it in winter time when hot flashes are less likely to leave a horrific body count.
When Jimmie was leaving tonight, he said to our manager, "I'm leaving, you bald motherfucker."
I keep telling him I am going to make a Twitter just for the outrageous things he's always saying, but then he just yells at me and says, "YEAH RIGHT, YOU DON'T EVEN BE ON TWITTER!!"
That is very true.
Gundig bile mi suhwet!
current mood: exhausted
(4 comments |BUH)