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I feel like a fighter jet made of BICEPS

As The Pilot and I celebrated the recent nuptials of his friends B and K, we began to take notice of a girl sitting a few tables away. You know how sometimes when you meet someone, you can tell right away that they’ve got a little bit of crazy behind the eyes? Like they’d throw a drink all over a bridesmaid for “looking at them wrong” and then thunder off to find some ham?

Yeah, that was her. But she didn’t just LOOK crazy. Bitch RADIATED crazy.

Later that evening, we were standing out on the patio chatting when Crazy thundered past and disappeared around a corner. Someone made a comment that she was probably going around back to do coke. I assumed they were kidding. I mean, we were at a wedding reception at a country club in friggin South Lyon.

As if on cue, here comes Crazy, stampeding towards us like a pissed-off rhino. I have never seen anyone so obviously, stereotypically high in my life, right down to the nose wiping and face twitching (which: HILARIOUS). She then started loudly insisting we watch her do the Moonwalk in heels and that she was warming up to go breakdance. I have no doubt that she did.

Why am I telling you this? There’s a point, I promise.

Why I can't just embed the video???

I live in the desert. I know, I’m just as surprised as you are.

My body HATES the desert. No matter what I do, I feel like ass every single day. The only thing that makes me feel marginally better is drinking multiple liters of water per day. And this is just to keep me functioning. But Nevada water sucks HARD, so I started getting those individual packets of Crystal Lite to make choking down that water tolerable. And, you know, to keep my blood to aspartame ratio holding steady at 1 to 1.

But I accidentally grabbed the package labeled “energy” instead of my standard pink lemonade. There’s no way this can end badly, I thought. Surely they listed caffeine as the second ingredient because it’s in alphabetical order, right?

Whoa.

I’ve never done coke before, but I’m pretty sure that now I've got a good idea of what it's like. Holy shit.

Expect a lot of content all up in here over the next few hours. That is, if I can stop chewing on my fist.

Subversive Insomniac Global Headquarters Fantasy Board of Directors

To my right: Diana Vreeland
To my left: Kathy Griffin

All the way down the line as follows:
Lisa Ling to keep things running,
Martha Stewart to keep things tasteful,
Tim Gunn to keep things classy,
Carol Burnett to keep things funny,
Michelle Obama because Barack has better things to do,
Joe Biden to determine when something is a big fucking deal, son,
Rachel Maddow for her wise commentary,
Jon Stewart for his wise-ass commentary,
Bono to manage the philanthropic contributions,
Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman to light shit on fire in the name of science,
Sir Richard Branson to implement the crazy fucking ideas,
Diablo Cody to draft the movie script,
Gala Darling to maintain the blog,
Kelly Cutrone to wrangle my interns,
Darren McCarty to pull the jersey over the heads of the haters,
and finally, Lady Gaga for when we want to just dance.


inspired by/ganked from: http://coketalk.tumblr.com/post/473015866

Shout out

For this inaugural post, I'd like to send a shout out to Ms. Andi W.

Thank you.