Get Use To It

Campus Bitch, Boobs and I headed into DC for some God Awful legislative forum discussion on Parks and Recreation.

It drove us to drink.

 We found ourselves at Bus Boys and Poets on 14th and V asking for any beer that tastes more like piss than class.

Me: Ahh, do you have anything ... mmm... like American? Like the stuff that every other country talks shit about?
Middle Eastern Waiter: Ahh...

He headed to the back and returned with a PBR. Said they had just gotten a shipment in and they keep it in the back- they only had twelve in stock.

Me: Bring out a six pack
Waiter: I will not judge
Me: Good, cause I thought you were... glad you clarified

And then we became best friends, which resulted in me drinking too many beers and doing this...

For the Poetry Lovers: www.hannahsafren.weebly.com

Dandelion Weekend

This past weekend was similar to a dandelion patch in Spring...right after you spray them with some intoxicating death sentence.

Think about it...

Infact, go ahead and look outside.

You see those little yellow suckers popping up on the edge of every sidewalk?

They are literally growing in laughter, purposely pissing you and your property off.

Then you kill them... 

But they are still there… 

Waiting for you to pick them up and throw them out.

Dandelion number one- waiting to be thrown out. 

This was taken on Saturday morning. She is lying on the stairs, just a few feet away from the couch. The previous night was spent scootering, and drinking excessively. I'm not exactly sure of her name, but I do know Campus Bitch put her to sleep just moments before this.

This is Sunday morning, sometime around 10am. Two dandelions smelling more like beer than pollen- waiting for me to throw them out.

The one to the right is dating the girl that lives up the stairs (We have yet to figure out why he couldn't walk the 16 steps up). 

The one on the couch- not sure where he came from... 

They spent the night anticipating the sunrise- don't think they made it.

...

To conclude, I would like to thank Tits and her friend Hippie, for visiting from Ohio State. I know you are out about 50 bucks out and missing pieces of your dignity. 

Love 

For the Poetry Lovers: www.Hannahsafren.weebly.com

Poem to Campus Bitch

I'm writing with my eyes closed (Because Campus Bitch made me)

Now they're open.

And I dedicate this poem to her,

And while I write it, envision her shoving down a massive cow (that I made) because that is what she is doing... fatass.

The night was a bore,
But then my friend (who's a whore)
Said let's make steak
So I don't hesitate
And then I heated it up because i had already made it last night
Then the night was no longer a bore

For the Poetry Lovers: hannahsafren.weebly.com

Tragedy on 81

81 is known for the speed, the trucks and the morons…

Boobs, Beaver and Campus Bitch were on there way back from scooping up a free water-ice from Rita’s to celebrate the first day of Spring, when Campus Bitch decided to do the whole flexing fist movement to a passing truck.

Yes, the same movement you did as a child, to get the driver to honk his horn.

Well… the driver honked his horn and in utter excitement, the child within erupted.

Boobs had been checking out her GPS- admiring it’s magical ability to “recalculate.”

As soon as the horn blasted, up went Boob’s hands and out went the GPS… literally out…right out the window… where it still lies alone- probably tattered in pieces from those crazies on 81.

But then life went on.

And while we cooked up a little dinner and sipped on two dollar wine, a nice young neighbor approached our door.

That little girl-scout lookin’ fourth grader didn’t even have any cookies. In fact, she was just asking for donations from some American Heart Association.

“So you want our money you little Munchkin?”

“Yeah.”

“And what do we get?”

“To sign your name here…”

Our house combined donated 6 one dollar bills, 3 quarters, 2 dimes and a nickel…

And one day, when we are holding our hearts on our death beds, sucking in our last few breaths, we will wish we would have scrounged up a few more pennies.

May God Bless.

For the Poetry Lovers: hannahsafren.weebly.com