Sunday, March 8, 2009


There is only one word to sum up how I feel right now: exhausted.

After a full weekend of birthday celebrating aka drinking, the only thing I can really think about is how much I can't wait to get into bed.

But of course, it wouldn't be a birthday without a few sketchy stories.

On Friday night, the friends and I went out to the bar where F-List works on the weekends and didn't hesitate to announce that it was my birthday, which led to free birthday drinks and shots. There's very little that this girl loves more than alcohol on the house.

Plus, I was in a festive mood, so when F-List asked me what kind of free birthday shot I would like, I of course leaned over the bar and said to him, "Something dirty."

He grinned wickedly and said he only knew of one dirty shot before pouring some Bailey's into a shot glass, adding a dollop of whipped cream, and much to my confusion, leaping over the bar, perching himself on the edge, and placing the shot between his legs.

It was way too late to back out now, so I really had no choice but to take the "blowjob" shot, to the cheers of the bar.

Sufficiently humiliated for the night, I headed home to pass out and rest up for the big day. When I woke up, I had a slew of texts from friends wishing me a happy birthday, but by far the most amusing were those from All American Idiot.

I had been blowing him off for the past week, so it was actually quite surprising to hear from him at all, not to mention the texts were from 9AM. On a Saturday. That read as follows:

"Happy birthday hot stuff!"
"How are you doing?"
"Wanna come over for a bit?"
"I have a birthday present for you."

At first, I was just confused that he remembered my birthday and that he wanted me to come over. Then I noticed the very creepy undertones of the last few messages. Next, I expected him to inform me that he had cut a hole in a wrapped box, put his penis in the hole, and that was my present. Or that there was a candy bar down his pants and I just needed to reach down and jiggle it out. And I wasn't falling for that one again.

Now, on any given night past 10PM I would probably consider this a drunken mistake and/or booty call of sorts, but it's just unusual to receive a text of this nature at 9AM on any day, especially a weekend.

After confirming the non-innocent nature of the texts, R laughed at me and he explained to me that when a guy wakes up with "morning wood," I can't really blame him when he tries to get some in the AM.

Seriously, could a girl ask for anything more on her birthday?

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