Fat chicks: Maybe good for something after all?

On Friday, I went to a party. Well actually I went to the end of a party... Long story, but basically I didn't get a ride until 1-ish so... yeah: end of a party. However, there was still a sufficient amount of beer and spirits to be consumed by myself, so I can't really complain. There was also a sufficient amount of people, one of whom was my friend HockeyStar.
There's not a lot of great stories from that night, except to tell you that I - quite literally - pulled a fat chick off of HockeyStar. I made him buy me cigarettes, as a cover, but really I just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't stick his drunk tool in her lard-hole. I'm a good guy, honestly.
Anyways, cut to an hour-or-so later, and we find our anti-hero (Optimus Prime) standing outside conversing with two rather attractive and friendly ladies. One drops mention of a fat chick, and I proceed to tell them the story of how I pulled FatChick off of HockeyStar, and was met by many laughs - the kind that precede dickings. The best part, though, was when I turned around at that moment to find none other than FatChick standing just behind me:
FatChick: "You're a terrible person."
OptimusPrime: "That's her!"

The hot girls laughed more, and I guess the fat one got the point and complained to some guy who pretended to care.

FIN

Adventures in drunken laundering.

They're not so much adventures as they are me peeing in a washing machine.

Twice.

I have a feeling this might turn into something of a saga...

Alright. This is a long one. But good. Trust me. It starts with TheRoommate's ex-girlfriend, who is supposed to come up to visit RIT for a hockey game this weekend. I have heard a couple of stories about her, and most of them paint her to be a bitch. To quote TheRoommate, "The more I talk to her, the more glad I am we broke up." Now, I don't know her very well (read: at all) but TheRoommate's pretty much my best friend at this school, so I'll take his word for it. Besides, he's too nice to rip her a new one when she OBVIOUSLY needs it.
The final straw (in my opinion) came with this correspondence between TheRoommate, and his ex-, who we'll call TheEx. In short, he was asking her to go out partying (read: drinking) with us before the hockey game.

"Hey, there are a couple options for the hockey game. I could come pick you and [TheExFriend] up and we could go, i could pick you up and we could go pregame (as in drink alcohol) at [Sailor]'s house and then walk to blue cross (he lives on park ave), or i could pregame and take the bus then meet you there. Whatever you would like to do is what we'll do. I'm going to be going to halloween a party on saturday night for sure, and probably friday night (unless i venture to suny albany with [HockeyStar]). You are welcome to come to either or both but the parties will probably cost 5 dollars for as much beer and possibly jungle juice as you can drink. A good deal for me and probably a bad deal for you. If you byob to the friday party i could get you in for free but I'm not sure about the saturday party. Anyways message me back and tell me what you'd like to do.


TheRoommate."

A reasonable request, no? Well, apparently not according to TheEx.

"haha umm...i dunno if drinking beforehand is really a good idea. i'd rather the three of us just went together. we can discuss further. i still have to ask [TheExFriend] if she even wants to go. plus if we drink, how am i going to get back to my campus? if you brought the car with you when you came, i could drive myself and [TheExFriend] around and keep the car here for the weekend, but that is pretty complicated. i dunno what im doing friday and sat. night. when is the hockey game anyway?? i would like to go to a party with you. i think we should talk about all of this on the phone b/c im kind of confused about the schedule right now. so ill call u sometime before friday , or you can call me.

TheEx"

What a bitch, right? Well, Optimus Prime is having NONE OF THIS (sobriety? PSHAW!), so when TheRoommate read to me, I was filled with sudden resolve to put this broad IN HER PLACE. Here is the letter I wrote to her in response - keep in mind that she has never heard of me, so I might've gone a bit "too far" but... fuck her:

"Dear Bitch,
You are woman, and as such, your opinion in the matters of men - such as my roommate, TheRoommate, and I - is NIL. Whether you like it or not, we are going to get rip-faced drunk before the hockey game, and you will be lucky if we are able to walk in without getting arrested, let alone drive you're bitchy PMS-ass home. I say these things not only because they're true, but because you seriously need to learn your place, you dumb bitch. Which is in the kitchen.
Maybe next time before you say what TheRoommate can or cannot do, maybe you'll consider that TheRoommate is a grown-ass man, and he does what he wants, when he wants, especially if it involves it involves me getting drunk. And no woman can say otherwise.

- OptimusPrime.

P.S. I hope you learned your lesson: DON'T FUCK WITH TheRoommate BECAUSE YOU FUCK WITH ME TOO.

P.P.S. TheRoommate was probably always too good for you.

P.P.P.S. TheRoommate's new girlfriend is hotter than you ever could be."

Here's the letter which I SENT to her... Apparently, TheRoommate did think the original was a little too harsh:

"Dear TheEx,
You are woman, and as such, your opinion in the matters of men - such as my roommate, TheRoommate, and I - is NIL. Whether you like it or not, we are going to get rip-faced drunk before the hockey game, and you will be lucky if we are able to walk in without getting arrested, let alone drive you home. I say these things not only because they're true, but because you seriously need to learn your place. Which is in the kitchen.
Maybe next time before you say what TheRoommate can or cannot do, maybe you'll consider that TheRoommate is a grown-ass man, and he does what he wants, when he wants, especially if it involves it involves me getting drunk. And no woman can say otherwise.

- Optimus Prime

P.S. I hope you learned your lesson: DON'T FUCK WITH TheRoommate BECAUSE YOU FUCK WITH ME TOO.

P.P.S. TheRoommate was probably always too good for you."

I eagerly await her reply.


UPDATE: Exacty one hour and twenty minutes after I sent my response, I get this:

You are an idiot. Seriously. You have a problem--probably many, so, I would suggest getting some help. I don't care what you think (I don't generally take life advice from those who do not have lives of their own--which you obviously don't, judging by your comments to me).

Honestly, do you realize that if anybody reads what you just wrote (which, I promise you, many people will because I'm not one to "learn my place") they will think you are a grade A basket case? I certainly do. TheRoommate is one of my very good friends and I daresay I know him better than you ever will, so don't you DARE tell me what to do when it comes to our friendship.

Besides, if you must know, I am looking out for his best interests. I am still going to say and do what I want. I hope you know that nothing you say has any bearing on me. What you just wrote to me is basically harrassment, and if you don't learn YOUR place, I will do something about it. Don't think I'm kidding, because you don't intimidate me.

-TheEx

To which I replied:

Hahahahahahahahaha.
Hahaha.
If you must know, I wrote that with the sole intention of upsetting TheRoommate. If I had known that you'd be so ill-equipped to take and appreciate a joke, I probably wouldn't have wasted my time writing it in the first place, and I'm beginning to feel sorry that I did. Actually, I probably still would have, seeing as the look on his face as I read the (initially) fake letter as I typed it was a - hilarious - mixture of shock and awe; if he hadn't assured me that you'd "probably just laugh" - like he did - I definitely wouldn't have bothered. I must say, I'm a little disappointed.

In your defense, it might've been a little harsh in some places, but just think of me as an insult-comic protected by the anonymity of the internet.

- Optimus Prime.

Yeah. Threw her for a loop.

How to tell if your life is pathetic (part 2):

Your life MIGHT be pathetic if:

1. You spend most of your time at parties hustling people to the back of the house because they're drunk and rowdy, AND/OR splitting up drunken Peruvian fights because you passed Spanish 4.
2. You convince a really hot girl to make-out with you, only to willingly give her up to your roommate so that he can partake in a three-way make-out session for no other reason than the fact that you apparently hate yourself and are some sort of make-out-masochist.
3. You stabbed someone with a plastic fork not because you were drunk, but because you probably need medication and aren't on it.
4. You pride yourself on touching unwitting girls' bottoms, but when a girl literally attaches herself to you for no other reason than "she wants to follow you," you shrug her off for no other reason than because you apparently hate yourself and are some sort of sex-masochist.
5. You might actually be considered a smoker, now, considering that you have a favorite brand, can tell the difference between menthols and regular, and you know what kind of cigarettes are for bitches and which are for men.
6. After all that, you still look forward to doing the same thing next Friday, because your life doesn't get much better than that.

California: Less Shitty Than I Give It Credit For.

• I miss Mexican food, and so help me god if one more of you fuckers tell me there's a Taco Bell in Rochester, I will dropkick your face.
• I think it's amazing that I'm regarded as a god simply because of my "profound" use of a towel... that is, being able to wrap it around myself without having it fall down; being able to put on clothes while still wearing said towel AND without revealing myself. Really, it's not that spectacular... I thought everyone knew how to do it.
• I kind of prefer "rad" to "wicked". Rad's really only got one connotation, but the same cannot be said for wicked. I feel weird being the only one who says rad.
• I miss shows. There's been shows pretty much every weekend here, but they're actually all in buffalo, which is like an hour away. Shit, i went to more shows in a week in San Diego than I've been to in my 2 months here. That is to say: one. I miss Soma, and I kind of even miss the House of Blues.
• I miss Lazer and Mander, AND NO ONE ELSE.
• And that's really it.

"Holy shit holyshit holy shit holy shit... TWO!!! TWO TWO TWO STREETLIGHT MANIFESTO TRACKS LEAKED AND I GOT THEM AND ITS THE MOST AMAZING FEELING!!!!"

(Transcribed from a text message to Lazer)

"Oh my god... I vastly underestimated how amazing these tracks would make me feel... seriously, you wont [sic] know what pleasure feels like til [sic] you blast these fuckers at 100 percent. My heart skipped not one but several dozen beats. In a row. Imagine the greatest orgasm you will ever have and mltiply [sic] it by three, except that it lasts at least 10 minutes unless you have the tracks on repeat [in which case it would last longer]. I honestly used to think that I loved Socialism and Camus, but those emotions are mere hiccups in comparison to how good this music makes me feel. I Wuld kill 100 thousand baby kittens to listen to these tracks if someone told me that I had to. I would sell my wife and children into slavery for these songs... SHIT... Now combine all of the above metaphors, and you get a small fraction of how these songs really make me feel..."

I couldn't put it more eloquently if I tried...

Too drunk?

If it exists (I don't think so) I attained it - Beervana, if you will - on Friday. I say this simply because I know I had one hell of a great time, but I remember exactly NONE of it. How do I know I had a great time, you might ask? Well, simply put: photographic evidence. I've never seen a happier picture of myself. Don't let the vomit-caked glasses or disgusting scowl fool you, that's just the face I make when I'm having a good time.
But, since I feel a little guilty about not remembering anything exciting, I can tell you what i had to drink, because that's all I remember.
First, Roommate, [HockeyStar] and I were pre-gaming with Rum & Root Beer (there was no Coke), but not to any great extent. After we got to the party, Roommate and I lost Beer Pong, so I had two beers, and a free shot of vodka someone gave to me. I remember a kid from my floor giving me another shot, something called a Blue Beast (according to the bartender, it's "a little bit of everything and it's blue"). The next thing I remember was a sort of chugging contest (which I won hands-down) in which I downed - quite literally - a quarter of Jack Daniels. I think I lost at Beer Pong again after that, and that's about where I blacked out... I'm sure I drank more, but that's all that I remember.
So... no great blog for today... I swear that next time I'll drink less so I can remember great tales of my antics. PROMISE!

P.S. MASSIVE Lolz at those of you who actually thought I killed myself after reading my last post. Thanks for caring, though.
Dumbasses.