Recovery
Sorry guys, I needed a day to recover from a total weekend of debauchery. That is what happens when St. Patrick's Day and your best friend's 30th birthday both fall on the same weekend. TROUBLE.
St. P's Day was a see of green and beer - but no green beer. We ran around in our "I'm with stupid" shirts and caused chaos thr
oughout the entire West Side. Unfortunately, at one of the bars on our crawl, the teeshirts became blank canvases for people to write on and we didn't have the smarts to not use industrial strength permanent markers. So when I awoke Saturday morning I had marker bleed all over my upper body. I also decided to become an impromptu stunt woman earlier during the day. I jumped on the hood of my friends moving (slowly of course) truck but my shirt was slippery and I fell off. Bonus for the Irish girl! No more stunts for me.
Sunday was K's 30th birthday fiestas (yes plural). We took her on a beach side scavenger hunt/bar crawl where the ultimate goal was pure fun and embarrassment and she took it like a champ! At each stop we got to "decorate" her with all sorts of fun. Tee shirt, beads, a penis on a rope, blinking penis horns, whistles, sombreros, you name it, she was wearing it. She also received a Butt Pincher that provided hours of fun on the tandem bike ride, the bars, and of 
course, sitting on the patio of Barney's Beanery on Third Street Promenade pinching all the unsuspecting tourists. The scavenger hunt ended with a surprise "White Trash" party at the local bowling alley. For 
this final extravaganza, we went all out. We donned the bikini and body tee-shirts, metallic mullet wigs and of course, we retained the sombreros. We looked HOT. O, and did I mention K's date? Bob the Blow Up Doll? He too was hot.
I must say, that for a group of girls living in LA LA Land, we are really very blessed to have found others that don't mind a little trouble and embarrassment once in a while (or, twice in one weekend). When all is said and done, we're going to have memories and stories galore and those who forfeit fun and laughs for the sake of "reputation" and "looks" will be left with nothing but a giant plastic surgery bill and a life less than ordinary. Sometimes, you just have to remind yourself that age is merely a number. And at 30, you're still a baby - just a baby with a paycheck.
St. P's Day was a see of green and beer - but no green beer. We ran around in our "I'm with stupid" shirts and caused chaos thr
oughout the entire West Side. Unfortunately, at one of the bars on our crawl, the teeshirts became blank canvases for people to write on and we didn't have the smarts to not use industrial strength permanent markers. So when I awoke Saturday morning I had marker bleed all over my upper body. I also decided to become an impromptu stunt woman earlier during the day. I jumped on the hood of my friends moving (slowly of course) truck but my shirt was slippery and I fell off. Bonus for the Irish girl! No more stunts for me.
Sunday was K's 30th birthday fiestas (yes plural). We took her on a beach side scavenger hunt/bar crawl where the ultimate goal was pure fun and embarrassment and she took it like a champ! At each stop we got to "decorate" her with all sorts of fun. Tee shirt, beads, a penis on a rope, blinking penis horns, whistles, sombreros, you name it, she was wearing it. She also received a Butt Pincher that provided hours of fun on the tandem bike ride, the bars, and of 
course, sitting on the patio of Barney's Beanery on Third Street Promenade pinching all the unsuspecting tourists. The scavenger hunt ended with a surprise "White Trash" party at the local bowling alley. For 
this final extravaganza, we went all out. We donned the bikini and body tee-shirts, metallic mullet wigs and of course, we retained the sombreros. We looked HOT. O, and did I mention K's date? Bob the Blow Up Doll? He too was hot.I must say, that for a group of girls living in LA LA Land, we are really very blessed to have found others that don't mind a little trouble and embarrassment once in a while (or, twice in one weekend). When all is said and done, we're going to have memories and stories galore and those who forfeit fun and laughs for the sake of "reputation" and "looks" will be left with nothing but a giant plastic surgery bill and a life less than ordinary. Sometimes, you just have to remind yourself that age is merely a number. And at 30, you're still a baby - just a baby with a paycheck.
posted by Rach2LA @ 1:23 PM
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