Don't cry over spilled milk....or ping pong

Last night Rose, Lesley and I went to a Table Tennis Tournament aka Tx3. A guy Rose and Lesley work with was playing in the tournament. Apparently yesterday at work he was telling everyone they needed to come because there was going to be free beer. That's all Rose had to tell me...I was there.

Anyway, we show up at the bar where this tournament is happening. The bar is one of those that only plays country music and everything in the place is wooden. To be honest, it kind of looked like you were walking into Tombstone except there were neon lights everywhere advertising some kind of beer.
We walk into the bar assuming it would be like any other bar experience.
First of all, the women sitting at the door were Bud Light girls. No offense to the Bud Light girls, but seriously these girls weren't the smartest. Bud Light girl #1 asked us if we were playing or watching. My mouth dropped. Did she seriously think that us girls were going to be playing in a Tx3. I think not. None of us were even dressed appropriately to be playing. Bud Light girl #2 asked who we were watching. We told her and she said "Well, here's the deal..." This was a "Private Party" and the players were only allowed to bring 3 people. Whatever. The guy we were coming to watch had over invited people. She let us in but we didn't get any free drink tickets. Sad day. But none the less, our Table Tennis player gave us drink tickets.

The games begin. The first game was between two old guys. The second game was some girl and a guy I went to high school with, Jeff. Now, let me explain Jeff to you. He is the cutest Asian guy I have ever seen. He was wearing his sweatband under his hair, so he kind of looked like a mushroom. And Jeff is a genius, but has never been too good at hand/eye coordination or sports. Somehow he managed to win his first game against the girl. I can tell you though that the girl kind of looked like a statue with moving arms. She was not getting into the game at all, she had no passion.

The three of us decide that we need another drink, so we got more drink tickets and headed towards the bar. The games were starting to get a bit boring and we had already seen the guy we came to see play.
The three of us bellied up to the bar to get our drinks, when at almost the same time we all looked to our left. The girl who lost to Jeff was bawling her eyes out, crying at the end of the bar.
We couldn't believe our eyes! We came up with a few plans as to how we could cheer her up, including walking over and giving her a drink...but all we could do was sit and stare, oh and laugh. Seriously girl, it's only PING PONG not a life or death situation. She sat there for like 20 minutes crying until we looked up and she had disappeared.
We started talking to the bartender and bouncers who were behind the bar, this girl had been sitting there crying for like 10 minutes before we sat down. They had been talking about it as well.

Seriously though, who the fuck cries over a game of ping pong? I agree, I would have been disappointed if I had entered this tournament and lost in the first round (especially if I lost to a guy in a sweatband) but I would not have cried over it. Yes, she could have won a trip to Vegas and possibly $100,000...but wow, this girl has some serious issues.

Soon after I was done hitting on one of the bouncers (who we knew from another bar) we left.

Lesson learned. Never, ever cry over a game of ping pong at a bar...if you do, go out to your car and do it!

<3 Your Bff, Jill?

smooth

A guy from work, Tommy, has been pestering me to go bar hopping with him for at least a month. I finally gave in and told him I would go out Saturday night if he remembered to send me a text.

Sure enough, Saturday I received a text "Wanna go out tonight?" I figured why the hell not so I called up a work friend Lesley and asked her to go. Plus, earlier that day I bought a new pair of hot sex black patent Guess pumps that needed to have their debut. (I tried to find a picture, but couldn't)

I planned on going home after the night was over. When I picked up Lesley, I told her the plan, I would drink before we left if she would drive, have one drink at the bar and quit for the rest of the night so I could drive her home.

I started drinking and had a bit of a buzz by the time we made it to DownTown BigCity, we went to two sort of upscale bars that are connected. I like more of laid back place, but Tommy wanted to go so we gave in. We get inside and I immediately had to wait about 15 minutes to pee. Then I made my happy, slightly tipsy, self to the bar and ordered my favorite, Gin and Tonic.

Tommy decides he wants to dance. He is off dancing like a fool (no literally, dancing like a fool. He looked like John Travolta during his Saturday Night Fever days). We make our way to the dance portion of the bar. At the corner of the dance floor there was a little box for the bouncers/drunk women to stand on. Trying to act smooth, I was dancing in front of it and decided to step back onto it. Before I took my first step back and up, I looked at Lesley and said "Now this is how it's done."

I didn't make it.

I am not smooth.

I fell forward and twisted my ankle and was caught by a man with an afro and buck teeth. He was an ugly version of the Reading Rainbow guy, afro flat top included. Thank God I didn't break my ankle new heels. It would have been catastrophic.

AfroMan/ReadingRainbow looked at me after the tumble and said "I've been watching you all night and been waiting for a chance to ask you to dance." I looked at him, snarled my nose and pointed down, "Can't dance, I'm hurt."

Then he starts grinding on Lesley. Not only did I feel humiliated for her because I declined the bozo and he went for her, but I felt bad because HE HAD A BONER. Pure class people, pure class.

Your ankle breaker,
Rose

that poor tree...

This morning Dad and I were leaving for work at the same time. I got into my car and he got into Mom's excursion.

Our driveway has a turn about and I had parked my car in that in reverse. Just put 'er in gear and go. Well, my Dad pulled up next to the house so he had to back up.

Let me just preface this by saying my Dad sucks driving in reverse. Like sucks so bad that he was backing up one time and hit my sister's then boyfriend's car and then blamed him for parking in the driveway!

This morning I'm not sure why, but he decided he didn't want to back up into the turn around or in the yard. He reversed down our entire driveway which I would say is 50 yards or so long. While he's reversing, I start driving (so our cars are facing each other)

I notice that he's driving pretty slow and starts to veer off of the driveway. I'm not surprised since as I said he sucks at backing a car up. I figured my lights could be in his eyes (our driveway has a hill and I was at the top of it), so I turned them off.

I then see the excursion rock pretty hard and I knew what had happened....

Dad totally hit a tree in the yard. A tree that is at least 5 feet away from the driveway.

Oh, once I realized what he had done I couldn't contain the laughter. Then I see him open the door.

"TURN OFF YOUR DAMN LIGHTS. YOU'RE BLINDING ME. I HIT THE FUCKING TREE!"

Well, no shit. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

I guess that his lights were reflecting into mine or something and that's what was blinding him.

When I got to work I called Mom and told her I thought Dad had hit the tree in the front yard with her car. She told me I was correct, he had. To top it off he hit it hard enough to put a dent in the back panel. Let me just tell you, that excursion is hardcore; it's hit a lot of things and no damage has ever been done to it. It's a tank. Obviously, he had to have hit it harder than I thought.

I told her that I had my lights off and she said it was fine. I asked her if I should apologize and she said not to bring it up. It's been a sore spot for him all day.

Yeah, I'm still laughing.

HAHA,
Rose

I Killed...

A MOTHER FUCKING CANADIAN GOOSE!!!!!!

Seriously. I killed a Canadian Goose.

I worked late tonight, until about 6pm. I take a back road to I-64, it breaks up the monotony of the interstate. Anyway, I'm driving along when I turn my head to the left just to see a group of Canadian geese flying in one of those Vs that they fly in. I thought "Oh how pretty." Then I thought "Fuck, that V is really close to the road...it kind of looks like it's going to hit me."

Next thing I know I hear a loud bang. A rogue goose had flown away from the group...I just closed my eyes, screamed and hoped for the best. When I opened my eyes I could see the remnants of feathers flying around my car and a slobber mark on my windshield! I was completely expecting my windshield to be shattered and for there to be goose blood all over my car. Thank God that wasn't the case. I would have freaked the fuck out, or freaked out more that I already did.

So, I decided that it was a good idea to douse my windshield in windshield washer fluid, say a little prayer for the goose and then call Rose to tell her all about my goose fiasco.

The more I think about it, the less I feel bad. My apartment has a large field behind it and it just happens that all the Canadian geese flock to it in the mornings. I can't count the number of times I have been woken up on a Saturday morning, when I'm trying to sleep in, by stupid mother fucking Canadian geese. Aren't they supposed to migrate to warm places during the winter?

<3,
Jill