Sunday, November 28, 2010

Texts from Last Night

I've been on my feet all day dealing with people from Missouri and other states I couldn't point out on a map, so you guys get one more post before I pass out and have to do it all again tomorrow, but I thought this short little one would be good.

I have a terrible, TERRIBLE habit of drunk texting and bbming, particularly dudes who I've banged. Like I said, I must have drunk prank called my ex boyfriend, the laxer, like 25 times in the few months after he dumped my ass. But the texts are terrible, and the best part is I know myself well enough, even when I'm shitface, to DELETE the messages after I send them, because I know if I wake up the next morning sober, hung over and feeling like shit, and I read the text that says "Iithink tyou need toj duped your girlfirned because sheds blonded and id fuck you aeight ways fomr SUNDAY" or the "id let you fuck me anywhere, even my ear" drunken promises that would never come to fruition unless I was roofied, that I sent to a hockey player or a laxer or a soccer hottie, I'd legitimately drown myself in the toilet while puking from being hung over.

This week has had two bad drunk calls/bbm, one to hockey dude (my friend and I left him a 7 minute voicemail, what I said I have no fucking idea, thanks Four Loco!) and one drunken "what language is she speaking" BBM to soccer hottie. I then gave my soccer hottie's BBM pin to my friend (who he's met a few times, anyway) and had her add him. Still pending. Not shocking.

Anyway, this one actually takes the cake. About four months ago, I decided I wanted to bang Brandon Morrow (true story). And about a year ago, the entire pitching staff from the Toronto Blue Jays had come into my bar and were bullshitting with me and a friend who had come in to visit me. She's a fucking HOTTIE, like, legitimately a gorgeous model type hottie. Anyway, she pairs off with one dude (bad story on that one, btw, for another post) and I end up going home because dudes are all married and talking about going to Sapphire, this gross stripper bar, and the last thing I want to do is go look at bitches who have bigger (albeit faker) tits that me. Anyway, my friend and one dude from the Blue Jay's hook up a few times. But then she gets a serious boyfriend and doesn't speak to him again. A year later, I hit her up for his number.

Mind you, I had never spoke to the dude she hooked up with. He never gave me his number or offered it up.

"Hey, what's up, I met you at my bar, you hung out with my friend, I know you're playing the Yankees this weekend, can you give Brandon Morrow my number? Tell him I'm hot - I swear I am. I really just wanna hook up with him. No strings attached. Come in I'll buy you a beer. You're not a threat because you're not going to playoffs. I'll even buy you two."

This text gets sent on a Saturday night. To a dude I had never spoken to. About a dude I had never met.

"Who is this again?" he texts back, assuming that he legitimately gave his number to me and that I didn't stalk it from some girl he banged months and months ago. At this point, I'm too shitfaced to respond in English, so I think I attempted to type Stefanie and my phone autocorrected it to Staph Infection. Nothing better than talking about hooking up with a guy and then dropping a text about infections. Definitely a great movie on my part.

Never got to hook up with Morrow, sadly. And somehow, I didn't get a restraining order or a cease and desist letter from player's attorneys. But I have to wonder if dude passed the message on. If not, Brandon Morrow, if you're reading this, I'd still fuck you and I promise, I am totally bangable! No need to drunk text, just drop me a line over there ----------->

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