2004-09-02 - 10:26 a.m.
THE WONDROUS JOYS OF DRUNK DIALING
Tonight promises to be a good one. I wore a long, flowy dress to work today, for the sole purpose of greeting The Honey tonight in said dress. If the bargain I made with Lucifer last night works, the wind will be blowing at the perfect mph for my dress to flutter prettily in the wind as I get out of the car, holding my briefcase. The Honey will think to himself, ah, look at my girlfriend, so pretty, so classy, so pure. Then we�ll go to dinner, which will commence with the rapid drinking of many peach margaritas. My perfect locution and extended vocabulary will give way to a trucker mouth that could rival the gutter talk uttered by Calamity Jane from HBO�s Deadwood. My outfit will be very rock and roll, with my highest pair of heels, jeans with the metal belt with a cowboy buckle, and my KISS t-shirt, perfect with its Gene Simmons tongue in the middle. As I swill margaritas and talk shit, The Honey with think, ah my girlfriend, so bawdy, so funny, so nasty. I can�t wait to get home and do bad things to her.
Before we head to our final destination, I will call Pastori-I, because there�s nothing better than drunk dialing Philly�s nastiest whore.
PASTORI-I: You�ve reached 555-HORE. Two dolla, sucky sucky. Leave a message.
PENCOPAL: Good evening slut. Why have you forsaken us tonight? �Plans with an old college friend?� I thought the janitor who cleaned your dorm was dead. What other college friend do you have? I know where you really are. You�re in New York, getting it in the ass from a gay Republican. I�ve got no problem with the gay part, but the Republican part? You�ve crossed the line. I turned my head when you whored it up Bella Vista, I ignored it when you threatened to beat me senseless at the Franz Ferdinand show, and I let it go when you hacked into my blog to espouse your love for PBR. But pleasuring Republicans for large sums of money is a deal breaker. God damn you Pastori-i, god damn you to hell. You�re dead to me.
THE HONEY: That�s right, sucka. You�re beat.
Then The Honey and I will drive to our final destination, where we�ll see Festival Express. The stink of Pastori-i�s heinous deeds will be washed away by one and half hours of staring at my favorite female rocker, Janis Joplin.
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