Worst Weekend Ever.

I was not there to personally experience the “story of the weekend,” but based on my recollection of our past three adventurous days, I have decided to share the best of the best…

The PE Teacher, Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1 and Might-As-Well-Be-Virgn-2 decided to embrace their love of meat and head to McDonalds. McDonalds has a Late-Night Menu for those of you who aren’t fat, don’t get high, or are oblivious to the world.

I apparently was oblivious to the world UNTIL this past June.

Personal experience

I was returning home from a concert sometime in mid-June and my car decided to head to McAsshole for a late night five pounds.

Me: “Double Cheeseburger Please”

Worker: “Only Large meals”

Me: “Nope…Double Cheeseburger Please”

Worker: “We’re only selling Large Meals. It’s after midnight.”

Me: “Yes, I’m 20 I can tell time. I want a double cheeseburger.”

Worker: “Only Large Meals”

Me: “Fuck You! You Fucking Asshole! Let me talk to your manager!”

Manager: “Ma’am, McDonalds only sells large meals from Midnight to 4AM.”

Me: “What? FUCK!... I’ll take a Number One... Asshole.”

Manager: “Second window please.”

So the Three Muskafatasses headed to McDonalds, forgetting of their Late Night Menu. If I was there, I would have warned them of McDonald’s dick behavior and ensured them that a Sheetz Steak and Cheese Sub was only $3.76, even after Midnight.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2: I’ll have a double cheeseburger please.

Worker: Only Large Meals

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2: Nope, Double cheeseburger please.

Worker: We’re only selling Large Meals. It’s after Midnight.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2: God Fucking Damnit!… Give me a Number 3.

Worker: That will be $6.97. Second window please.

This is where it gets interesting.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1: Guys… we only got $6.69

PE Teacher: 69? Hahahahahahahaha…

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2: SEARCH EVERYWHERE!

They started to frantically search through the car. Visual image: This morning there was a hoodie hanging out of the trunk, the back seat had shit everywhere, the PE Teacher’s purse was dumped out onto the floor, and papers from the dashboard were lying on the front seat. Quite the disaster.

After no lucky pennies were found in the crevices of the car, the PE Teacher leaped head first through the side window. After enduring only a small street burn on her elbow, she popped the trunk in search of coins. The truck behind them started beeping wildly in hunger and before Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1 and 2 had time to react, the PE Teacher rushed towards the truck.

The PE Teacher ends up knowing the guy from class and she screams, “I need ONE quarter!”

Guy: Give ya a quarter for a kiss.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1 and 2: Make it TWO quarters!

Guy: Two Quarters for a kiss?

PE Teacher: DEAL!

So it was early this afternoon when they decided to share this story with me. After listening to them hysterically laugh for a few minutes I proceeded to call the PE Teacher a prostitute and explain to them how WHOREable of a story that was…

(Sucks you just wasted your time reading it.)

I’m sitting on the couch waiting for the clock to strike Monday and erase my memories of McDonalds and the two losses we picked up this weekend.

The PE Teacher is admiring her newly dyed hair. The box said Pecan Brown, but it looks more like Rotten Banana. I’m not sure if she dyed it as a disguise mechanism from the classmate in the truck, or because our coach kept calling her ALEX HALEY (the author of Roots).

I was just asked to join the Three Muskafatasses in a trip around town to throw cupcakes at cars. Obviously my answer was Hell No.

“What a waste of icing… fuckers.”

Oh College

Beaver, Goofy and I just spent the last two hours stalking pictures of this year. I figured I would share a few with my steadily growing fan base of nobodies. As forewarning, the quote of the year was perfectly stated by Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1:

"If I don't remember it, it never happened."

Cheers to Junior Year Bitches!

Losers.

We lost.

I have a headache and I ate four pieces of peanut butter fudge –Yes, I feel like shit.

We’re stuck in Charleston for two more wonderful nights. We practice at West Virginia State tomorrow and we kick their asses on Saturday at two. Unfortunately, it’s far easier to stay here than drive the six hours back to Shepherd.

I got roomed with two of my fav teammates, Goofy and Beaver. They have absolutely nothing to offer me and my world.

I’m not a downer, I’m a realist.

I’m going to sleep. Fuck You Charleston.

Game Day

It all started around 2:30 yesterday afternoon when I forgot to fake an illness.

Because of my lack of quick thinking I was suckered into risking my life on a bumpy bus ride to Charleston West Virginia… In a snow storm.

Winter Weather Advisory Warning: Driving conditions will be dangerous if not impossible.

Lies.

Coaches left before us to let us know if the roads were doable. Apparently they thought ice skating across 64 was “doable.”

Texting convo-between Captain Red and Coach

Coach: Please let us know when you get on 81

Red : You do know our lives are at serious risk, correct?

Coach: We’re discussing that now.

Personal input- I never knew living was up for discussion.

Ten minutes later

Coach: Where are you now?

Red: Winter Wonderland

This is what I imagined happened next…

Coach: No, seriously?

Red: No, seriously fuck you.

Well, 12 inches of snow and four hours later we arrived at a midpoint in Lexington Virginia. I suppose the bus driver realized riding on the safety bumps for three hours was not only extremely annoying, but unsafe. Good timing, I was starving.

Might as Well be Virgin 2, Red and I managed to get a room together.

Coach said “Don’t make me regret this”

Have a little faith huh?

I suppose she had reason for nerves. Might as Well be Virgin 2 and I have quite the reputations. The two of us use to keep a list of strikes consisting of minor offenses such as cell phone use during study hall or kicking a soccer ball at coach during a water break. The major strikes consisted of plagiarizing in class or getting caught using a fake ID.

When we surpassed one-hundred we purposely lost count.

The team headed straight to Ruby Tuesday’s where I stuffed my face with mini burgers and we discussed how ridiculous Valentine’s Day is. Well, I discussed it and everyone else agreed to disagree.

The only upside to Valentine’s Day is overdosing on chocolates.

I’m so romantic.

Anyways, when we returned to the bus to head to the hotel, our only Black girl on the team stood up and said, “Apparently I belong on the back of the bus.”

No one knew why she said it, but no one was going to tell her differently.

As a quick conversation switcher, one of the assistant coaches brought up that my Jesus jokes weren’t really funny.

I responded “God has a sense of humor coach, that’s why he made you”

Side note- Jesus must have a sense of humor or he would have stayed a Jew… what an idiot.

It was near 11:00pm and the roommates were headed to sleep.  

Me: I’m not tired!

Red: Well, some of us have to play in a game tomorrow.

Ouch.

I woke up to an obnoxious wake-up call and salty hotel eggs. I had a horrible night sleep due to the below freezing temperature in our room and the lack of energy to turn on the heat.

Red: I know I slept bad when I wake up with frizzy hair. Well, I either slept bad or I had great sex.”

Me: Can you not remember which one it was?

Off to Charleston. Game time is at 5:30pm. Heard the bench was getting rowdy.

I Too Want A Donut

Tuesday night TV sucks.

Red’s on the couch screaming at the channels, “NO.NO.NO.NO.NO.”

The TV can’t hear you fuckface!

She settled on the food channel… no surprise.

5 minutes ago:

Red- I want a donut

Me: no response

Red: I want a donut

Me: no response

Red: Did you hear me! I want a donut! I hate when you write!”

Me: I FUCKING HEAR YOU! YOU WANT A DONUT! I’M TRYING TO FUCKING WRITE!”

Red: Ohhhh myyy Goddd, look at that truffle they are making.

Oh my Jesus… Anyways, while I was spinning a dreidle during Facilities Management Class I was told to shut up and listen. I shut up and wrote a poem instead. It’s a bit sentimental, but sometimes I reach into my corrupted soul and pull out my soft side.

It’s day “111”

Day “I love you more than day 110”

Day “I sure do hope this never ends.”

It’s day “I’ve missed you for 20 years”

Day “Tell me your secrets, your worries, your fears.”

It’s day “Let’s skip life and lay in bed.”

Day “I loved you before I love you was said.”

It’s day “I know I’m not the greatest thing.”

Day “You’re better than great, you’re perfect to me.”

Day “I like you here with me”

Day “You get better everyday”

Day “Your smile makes me smile”

Day “Your voice makes me melt”

Day “I love you more than people love people.”

Day “I’ll shake on my heart if you don’t break the deal.”

It’s day “111”

I Blogged This Without Her Permission

While I was a freshman i was blessed to meet the biggest bitch ever. I barely like her due to her asshole comments and ability to stay skinny regardless of shoving down dunkin donuts religiously, but her outragous stories are worth keeping her around...

This is copy and pasted directly from my facebook message inbox, sent to me from the bitch. Enjoy.

"lonng story short i was extremely drunk in public at a bar a young man wearing a north face kept bumping into me and so i yelled at him calling him northface when i noticed one thing about him that struck me, he had a large nose so i asked him if he was jewish he responded yes bitch why? and i said becuase your nose is huge i knew u had to be a jew and if u think i stopped there NOPE his friend comes over who just happens to be a ginger and starts running his mouth i procede to tell him to shut up ginger. and the three of us begin to have a battle of words and then the jew calls me racist to which i respond ginger isnt a race and before things got real heated my gay boyfriend escorted me out hahaha this is my life"

It's people like these that make true acceptence impossible... cunt.

My Savior

Vyvance is God’s gift to earth. I’d even argue it’s better than long walks on the beach and ice cream. It’s an ADHD medicine and to no one’s surprise I am ADHD. It has done wonders for me.

My whole life my mom has been begging me to see a doctor about my “interesting” personality, but I always shrugged it off because this request was coming from the woman who forgot to give me a middle name. But to her satisfaction, this past summer I agreed to hit up the Doc.  

Best. Move. Ever.

1.      I’ll start with the most important wonder- Vyvance has been known to make people drop a good 15 to 20 pounds. The problem here is it didn’t work for me. All summer, I waited for the double cheeseburgers to shed off my thighs, but nothing happened. I had to make a stand.

I didn’t want to ruin any statistics SO, I convinced myself I wasn’t hungry and ate practically nothing for the first two months of school. No, it didn’t last and I’ve decided eating chocolate is better than eating nothing. But the momentary skinniness rocked my world.

2.      Actually, nothing else compares to number one, but basically I am not as dumb as I always thought. I’ve always listened in class, but somehow I forgot to hear… Vyvance makes me hear. It makes me awake. It makes me feel cool.

Okay the Vyvance doesn’t make me cool -that came naturally. Anyways, the point is Vyvance is my savior, similar to how Jesus is to the Christians. But see my savior leaves me when I need it most. I just returned from practice where I got yelled at 43 times to “stop being horrible.”

Fuck you Vyvance. I’m switching to Jesus.

Besides the blurry practice I just returned from, my day isn’t worth remembering. Although, I did attend an art show featuring paintings and drawings from a weird chick obsessed with vaginas... Fag. The pictures really were worth seeing, but even better, there were delicious crème puffs. Red and I sneakily shoved down between seven and twenty six of them- I lost count.

I’d say it was a good day. I’m about to eat eggs and bagels for dinner and the bachelor is on HOLLAA.

Quote of the Week

Dick: Pack my bags.
Red: NO!
Dick: I'll give you sexual favors...
Red: I don't know what to pack!

Dick leaves...

One. Minute. Later.

Red: I'm gonna go help him pack.

Weekend.

I apologize stalkers, for not posting over the weekend; I got carried away with living. I spent Friday night wishing I didn’t play basketball so I could go waste my life away getting wasted. After sulking for 43 minutes, Dick, Red and I stuffed our face with an outback blooming onion and cookies and cream ice cream.

My roommates left me on Saturday after practice. Red had to go mourn over her dead great aunt. The P.E teacher went to JMU in an attempt to seduce her friend. And Dick had to go to some job training event in Key West. Dick is in the military, so I never really ask questions, but I don’t believe anything he says. I mean how could I? He wears two silly bands on his wrist- a shield to block STD’S and a hanger to take care of what’s not wanted –sick fuck. Even worse, he wants to be a male nurse.  

Job training Dick? Yeah right.  

Anyways, after realizing I had no friends, I turned on our surround sound stereo and played backstreet boys for thinking inspiration. Realizing no amount of inspiration would find me friends; I called up a buddy from high school and begged her for company.

She graduated college and has to do real life now, so she barely laughs at my hilarious college jokes –which I just find annoying, but appreciating her sympathy I hurried over. Her and her roommate, Princass, took me bowling. Bowling is so boring, so I purposely came in last place, so we could hurry and leave. Blah…

We spent the night rocking out to high school jams like “My Goodies” and Fabolous music. It was fabulous, so was the greesy cheese pizza I demolished.

I came home Sunday to about six hours of homework, so I decided to take a nap. Awaking to my wonderful roommates, I postponed homework a bit longer to chat it up. Unfortunately, they must be PMSing. I tried to show them a cool song I heard and they screamed “Shut up” so I called them assholes and pretended to listen to their bull shit weekends.

Red said the funeral was interesting –five black guys led the service so she replaced her tears with humming “mmmmmmhmm” like the black churches do on TV. On her way back to Shepherd, her wrangler started overheating and she spent the morning sitting on the side of route 70.

“Sucks to suck”

She didn’t find that funny.

The P.E teacher said she got left at some Mexican restaurant and ended up driving back to Shepherd at 3AM… I assume she either became more intrigued with the tacos than the friend, or her attempt at seducing failed miserably. Based off what I heard from her, my imagination created a badass story involving a taxi cab, burritos and an expensive bag of makeup. I didn't bother with the facutal details for the obvious risk of ruining my images.

Dick walked in exhausted. He told us some sob story of letting the girl of his dreams just walk away last night.

Red screams, “Wait, I’m not the girl of your dreams?”

We just looked at her and she knew immediately that we were admiring her red-not girl of his dream-hair.

Dick described this chick like she was worthy of marriage and then mentioned that she had a boyfriend.

“Cool Dick –sounds like a winner…”

Who knew picking up chicks was part of job training?

It’s damn near ten and I have yet to complete my homework. I’m thinking of making myself vomit so I can send a picture to my coach letting her know I had a reasonable excuse to be absent tomorrow. Coach takes skipping class seriously, so I take excuses for skipping class even more seriously. I just submitted a motivational speech about success to a chick that can’t even spell her name right. She said it was a homework assignment. Wondering how I found time to do her homework and not mine, I addressed my answers as followed:

 “Dear Kasey, Your name is spelled Casey… Idiot” and I proceeded “Success is everything…etc.”

I assume she chose to ask me the success questions because I have successfully accomplished nothing.

I'm Not Cool

I’m too school for cool, so I decided to stay in tonight and do notes for some incredibly nerdy class. Campus is currently dressing up in slutty clothes, drinking the classy ‘natty,’ about to drop it like it’s hot.

I learned how to drop it like it's hot last September when Big Red decided to put on a midafternoon dance academy in our kitchen. In the midst of my Peanut Butter and Egg sandwich, Big Red lined us up; by us, I mean me, the P.E Teacher, Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-One and Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-Two. She put on our goto jam, “Boom-Boom Pow” by the Black Eyed Peas. Next thing I know, we’re doing a four step routine against the dining room table chairs.

Anyways, I took the night off for the homework notes, so let me tell you about the ass kicking I received last night.

I attempt to play basketball at Shepherd University, a division two school in Bumfuck, West Virginia. Last night we got raped by Fairmont University. Their starting lineup consisted of four oversized midgets and a seven foot monster. Besides the final score, two vivid images stick out in my head.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-One getting her shit smacked to Africa by the monster and Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-Two crying hysterically after the game… Haha.

Playing a sport in college pretty much ruins your life. I, like many athletes, have an awkward love/hate relationship with their prospective sports. I currently have a pimp walk due to a crack in my fifth metatarsal. Yes, I have a broken foot, it’s miserable. Walking is miserable, stretching is miserable, practice is miserable. Being sore is miserable. My roommates tell me I bitch so much it makes them miserable.

BUT

I need it. I need it like I need cookies and Regis and Kelly and the word “fuck.” Basketball has been a crucial part of my life. I’ve learned dedication, hard work and teamwork. I’ve developed a beautiful temper, a disgusting mouth, a will to win and win and win. I love this game and it makes me miserable.

Also, I hate losing.

So as a result of getting our ass kicked, I went into the locker room, threw my shoe against the wall and screamed “FUCK!” entirely too loud. After a half ass huddle, I continued into the night by shoving down a steak and cheese sub, a peanut butter cookie, two chocolate chip cookies and two scoops of rocky road ice cream. Then I fell asleep to the sweet sounds of Justin Beiber. I began my morning with a cup of coffee and a chipotle burrito.

So. Over. That. Loss.

Confession: I am not too school for cool; I’m too not cool for cool. I have no homework; I’m a Rec and Leisure Major. But I did have to take notes on how Snookie can eat fried pickles and drink Miller Lights every afternoon and still keep that sexy bod.

What I learned in Human Resource Management

     I learned nothing. Partially because this class will do nothing for me in my unrealistic dream life as a lottery winner, but also because I waste my life jotting down the random words that dance through my thoughts.       

     "Resources" and "Management" are just NOT appealling words to me -my imagination is. So I transfer my bullshit on to paper and at the end of every class, I wonder where the hell time went.

      If you look in my binder you will come to a divider that is labeled "9:10 Waste of time class." Each notebook page thereafter is filled with endless lyrics, words and doodles.

I'll share today's notes.

Human Resource Management Notes (1-19-11)

Notice

I wanna lay under an old Oak Tree and whisper to God the craziest things; my wildest dreams in a cool fall breeze and soak in all the beauty life breathes.

Life becomes living through the simplest of things.

The impacting moments that grow into memories,

The note my Dad wrote and I still read

Blue skies, brown eyes, heart and hard times,

It’s the simple things worth noticing and I want to notice everything.

So I’ll lay under that old Oak Tree and let the damaged leaves cover me,

listen closely to the wisdom that the weary bark keeps

and tell God the stories I never speak.

I imagine the wind will laugh at the fact that at 21 I still carry a pencil pack.

I picture the rain falling with my tears, when I tell God I wish my uncle was still here.

I envision the sunset smiling in a hazy grey when I thank God for waking me up today.

Is it crazy to whisper to an old Oak Tree? I wonder if God will even listen to me?

Last Day of My Life- Blog 2

           Alarm clocks are the second most annoying invention- the first is electric toothbrushes. Has society become so lazy that we cant move our toothbrush in a circle for two minutes? Two fucking minutes? 120 seconds? Jesus. 

          After my 8 am heart attack, I dragged myself out of bed, smashed the cell phone repeatedly against the  wall and leaned my head out of my bedroom window. 

        “Fuck you, Snow Men!”  

         While sitting on the toilet seat, allowing my toothbrush to clean my inappropriate mouth, I wondered why God would make it snow and then also make us go to class. Didn't he hear our prayers? I then realized I should have been yelling “Fuck you, Snow PLOW Men.” 

         I was about to get pissed about the obnoxious start to my morning, but then my girl Miley came on the radio so I cleared my throat and confidently said “I got my hands up, they’re playing my song, and I know I’m gonna be okay.”

        WRONG.

        Last night I made a bet with the dick that we would have a two hour delay due to the snow. I called him an idiot and we shook on it. I gave his happy ass a dirty look when he walked upstairs this morning and prepared to announce that he should mentally prepare to be my slave for the next three days. Before I could get it out, he laughed and said “You should mentally prepare to be my slave for the next three days.” 

        Fuck you dick.

        I conveniently forgot that today is Tuesday and Tuesday/ Thursday classes last an hour and a half, resulting in school beginning at 9:35am. For those of you, like myself, that had to talk yourself into a “C” in Math101, that’s only an hour and thirty-five minute delay. 

       It’s only the second day of my blog life and I have nothing positive to share. I just poured a glass of ice water for dick and I’m currently wondering if the PE Teacher’s vision of our college exploding will come true. She’s been laying with her face in the carpet, whining about weird smells for thirty minutes. She ‘s currently listed at number 72 on my list of annoying inventions, but if the bomb doesn’t go off soon, she will surpass Power Bands (67). 

       To top it off, the dick just told us that it’s National Hug A Ginger Day. Consequently, the red head is now bitching about the fact that her only two hugs were from the Dinosaur and the PE Teacher. Duh Big Red, no one WANTS to hug a ginger, that’s why they had to make a holiday for it. I tried to explain to her that it’s similar to Chanukah. No one thinks the Jews deserve presents, but it’s celebrated out of sympathy. 

       I am not going to be okay Miley.

First day of my Life- Blog 1

Picture this: Two candles lit –Pumpkin Spice and Winter Christmas (My sense of smell is altered due to the polyps clogging my nose, but my imagination is telling me it’s giving off a gingerbread cookie scent and it's making me hungry). I have roommates, lovers and assholes all around me. A dick and a red head to my right, a scissorsauras to my left, a future P.E teacher in the recliner (big dreams huh?), and two chicks on the floor who claim their most scandalous hook up occurred in the bed: missionary style.

            And then there’s me, right in between the dinosaur and red head. They’re all watching Hot Tub Time Machine crippling their brains with this disastrous, so-called “comedy.” I’ve never been a fan of funny movies- they’re unrealistic. Fat Jewish guys do not get laid in real life – they eventually get skinny or they spend their life masturbating to “I had a little dreidle.” Black jokes are not funny, they were never funny, and they will never be funny. Yet, black jokes are still told by the ignorant and laughed at by the reformed racist. The inspiring speeches are disturbing. Telling someone they are “Special” or “worth something” after they zipped their penis in their pants or spent their life as an oversized elf is completely fucking wrong. And we wonder why American children have these unattainable aspirations.

            In conclusion, comedies suck. I find myself far more entertaining.

            Just minutes ago our neighbor broke in. We hear the door slam and I immediately begin plotting an escape route in my head. I imagined myself jumping over the alcohol stained coffee table, pushing the PE teacher off the recliner as a distraction, (I figured if she was an English teacher she would be worth saving considering the current invasion of foreigners, and in that case I would choose the red head as a distraction due to obvious reasons, but the PE teacher isn’t an English teacher and teaching kids to play kickball is simply replaceable). I would then skip between the might-as-well-be-virgins and run up the stairs to the side window. I envisioned punching the window out and landing in the mulch and bushes hopefully enduring only a slight fracture to the wrist or ankle, but my back up plan was to run in my room, lock the door and scream for help. Before I could carry out my escape plan, we  made the dick go check out the scene.

Next thing we know a drunk bitch pops around the corner, the dick tackles her to the ground and realizing she had no axe, but an ass, the dick left to go to the bar with her and a few sluts… typical.

            So here I am, beginning my blog life after a near death experience, under the romantic glow of two burning candles, resisting the hairy, naked men on the TV screen, and trying to avoid the delicious thought of gingerbread men jumping into milk and then reaching for my mouth.

Oh, College.