Shelfie of Shame


It finally happened! Nadia finally made it back to Boulder, I was in town at the same time, and we didn’t have anyone (Marlo) preventing us from drinking ill-advised amounts of booze and getting in trouble.

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Hanging with Nadia is an endurance activity and I had to prepare myself physically and emotionally for the night ahead.

There’s this pair of Victoria’s Secret panties that keeps showing up in my clean laundry. If Loony ever wanted to have a secret affair, he would never have to worry about getting busted by an incriminating pair of panties showing up with his stuff.

All his thrifting and the various ladies who live here provide him with the perfect cover.

Anyway, I felt like those panties were trying to tell me something so I put them on, they are cute and acted as my talisman for the night.

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When Boobzilla came walking up the sidewalk I yelled, “Hey! Are these your panties?” and pulled up my skirt, “because I’m wearing them!”

She took my lack of personal boundaries well and I was off to the races.

Seriously, there are so many things to try to remember from last night. We got home around 1:30 and I knew that falling asleep immediately would be the death of me.

Must. Not. Fall. A. Sleep.

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So I wrote down a bunch of stuff from the evening but there is no way I can remember all the things that happened or were said. It’s probably better that way.

Anyway, she’s here to do a workshop intensive at got home around 7 or so. I was tired of sitting around in my makeup and heels so Loony and I started with mojitos at Aji. Nadia joined us and our conversation quickly alienated him so he got the hell out of there. I honestly cannot remember what we talked about.

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Nadia said she had some “white friends” from college (she has a degree in electrical engineering) who just moved into the area. They said they were in front of the Boulder Bookstore and since Nadia didn’t have her glasses on and couldn’t see, she described them to me as a blond chick with big boobs and a guy with red hair. So I walked up to anyone remotely matching that description (i.e. a man and a woman together) and stood next to them and pointed and asked, “Are these the ones?”

One dude was offended and said, “She’s my daughter” as if that made any difference. Maybe I was looking for a father/daughter pair.

Then we went to Japango where Nadia and the guy had a big argument over when WWF turned into WWE and the differences (hint, one has pandas)

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Has nothing to do with wrestlers

and WCW

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Has nothing to do with pandas

and it took the intervention of a sushi chef to get the guy to back the fuck down and admit that he was wrong.

I was slightly worried but actually hoping that the fight would escalate into blows or at least a drink in the face.

I also ran into a PTA mom which normally would have freaked me out but I’ve been crazy around her enough that she knows what time it is. Nonetheless, she encouraged me to pace myself and drink water but I was like, NO WAY! This shit is happening tonight and I’m fighting that bitch!

But she was like, Drink water okay? And I was all YOLO!

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I didn’t say YOLO. I never say YOLO in a non-ironic way.

I positioned Nadia directly down the center of the Pearl Street Mall so she wouldn’t violate the no-smoking within 15-feet of an entrance ordinance and she pulled out the thinnest cigarette I’ve ever seen and I said, “Is that a Virginia Slim?” and she was like, “I get so upset when people ask me if I am smoking Virginia Slims. It’s a SUPER SLIM BITCH DO NOT DISRESPECT ME!” and proceeded to speak L.A. for the rest of the night.

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Since she had only one Super Slim left we walked to the Circle K on Canyon only after I walked everyone about eight blocks out of the way because I was trying exhaust the white couple because I was tired of partying with them.

Circle K only had Super Slims in menthol (two kinds, green AND blue) so Nadia was forced to just go with the regular slims which led to an existential crisis.

“FUCK MY LIFE! They only sell American Spirit here!”

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Reveling in the seedy underbelly of Boulder

Oh my god.

I bought Magnum ice cream bar because at that point I was all about adding gravity to my system to mitigate the effects of all the alcohol that was about to go in me. White guy was all, “You like putting the Magnum in your mouth don’t you,” and I was like …

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I am never going there with you, dude. Not even in jest.

Back on Pearl we managed to lose her white friends before ducking into a pub for fries and mayo … I mean … aoli and that was when the shit talking began in earnest.

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Jellyfish selfie

Sideboob: It is everything you ever wanted in a no-holds-barred shit-talking session.

We stopped for a smoke on a bench when we witnessed some shit going down at Fast Freddy’s hotdog stand. It seriously looked like we were going to witness blows and I think the guy running the joint took someone else’s phone but the short guy was fronting a tall guy like you’ve never seen but Nadia was like if you take my phone I will have to hurt you.

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Naturally we moved so we could get a better view

We went to Club Nitro (Pearl Street’s finest titty bar) after recovering her credit card from the Sundowner where I talked her into doing a shot that was abandoned on the bar by someone else –Lemondrop, classy.

Nitro was fun, I wanted her to see the crazy set-up they have there with their short poles and strange reinforced glass bar. Nadia was on fire, calling guys out for all sorts of shit, like the dudes that would tent their ones so their pile looked bigger.

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But dumber

We did the same them so we could look baller, too. A dancer came up and I presented our tower of money with a flourish. You are looking at ONE MILLION DOLLARS! and she said, Well you sure did fool me. And proceeded to rub her boobies all over Nadia who said that she smelled like a meadow.

I got very little booby action. I’m going to blame it on the garlic fries.

Some dude came up and asked us if us two ladies ever had a lap dance together and before he could even finish asking us if we would like him to buy us one, we answered yes in unison and picked out our favorite dancer.

The lapdance never happened.

I think perhaps we were a little too nonchalant about it. Maybe we should have acted a little more scandalized and allowed him to think he was talking us into it, but we kinda said sure, we want that one and then dismissed him.

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Obligatory bathroom selfie. There is something seriously wrong with my eyes.

We burned through a big stack of money and a bunch of drinks while talking about shit I cannot for the life of me remember but I do remember not feeling jealous of Sideboob in France, for once.

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Then Nadia wondered if she should do a lap around the stage before we left but she decided that since we had a connection with all the girls it would be a dick move to go out their and show them some shit.

That would have been dope but I think her respect for the profession and the fact that she was wearing huge panties and sports bra stopped her.

We talked about what pole dancer we would be if we could be anyone, how much we hate Steven Retchless for being more beautiful than any man or woman and he really ought to choose (but not really), Marion Crampe – who I love and everyone loves, how Ann Marie Davies has this crazy sexy appeal switch, how Brynn Route is a darling human, and how we are going to go on a real vacation in Girona in April with Sideboob if Nadia ever figures out what to do next with her life.

I hear she’s considering a PhD which would be so badass.

And we had a bunch of drinks, talked a lot of shit and then walked home where a hedgerow attacked Nadia and she almost didn’t make it.

A few weeks ago Mr. Sideboob showed me this video of Japan’s hottest new craze: the Virgin Killer sweater.

As if Virgin dudes need a sexy sweater to relieve them of their virginity.

Mr. Sideboob ordered one for the missus but seeing as how she’s out of town and he was going out of town, he thoughtfully dropped it off incase we wanted to make a video.

Here you go. It’s at least as sexy as the original video.

I left two glasses of water on her bedside tables and wondered if I would be spared the pain of a crushing hangover.

VICTORIOUS!

I also got a piercing the other day because I want to be just like Marion. AND Stitch (formerly known as My Other Asian Daughter) started working at a nearby piercing studio and promised to hold my hand.

Obviously I’m going through some kind of mid-life crisis so I’m trying to keep the impact of my juvenile acts of defiance minimal. And I’m going to enjoy the crap out of it because when else am I going to have fun?

Nadia, let me know if you want me to take videos of your boobs off the internet.

Here’s a video of Scheissehund being a dick.

 

 

3 thoughts on “Shelfie of Shame

  1. Pingback: #FTW | Vivienne's Process of Elimination

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