I have to say, I love my friends. All girls say that, and in reality we really loathe each other and talk shit all day long. But I can honestly say I mean it. I was in a sorority for like, a day. Those bitches HATED me, and I hated them. But my small group of close girl friends that I have now - three different sets of 3 - are all awesome.
One of those sets are my jersey chasing partners in crime. Well, one has a BF now so she's tamed her ways, but we still bullshit all the time about our fucked up adventures with soccer teams and hockey teams and the shady shit we do. This post is all about them (because they said it was cool ha).
Jock and Lynn seriously are the two fucking coolest bitches. And while they def. haven't experienced as much jersey as I have, they've been through it all with me. Particularly soccer. God..
Lynn is kind of the all American girl next door. And somehow she ends up in the weirdest fucking situations. Like, we all think she lands the nice athlete and he um...ends up being like...married or something. WHAT? None of us knew! She didn't even know what team he played for, we hadn't done proper Google stalking of the roster. LESSON, LEARNED.
She once had a hockey dude tell her she was the oldest girl he's ever been with and that he likes that she's a cougar (she was all of like, 3 years older than him). She then kicked him out of her apartment and I had to take both him and my own drunk Canadian hockey dude home on the LIRR where they crashed at my house. Lynn also got lost once in a hotel and ended up walking into the kitchen at 6 in the morning to avoid the coach of the team.
Lynn and I also initiated a theoretical and totally fake gang bang with two dudes in the NHL once. She basically managed to write a Cinemax porno on her BBM to the two guys while I was driving us home from a game. She comes up with stories on the fly like no one else, and she is totally believable. Lynn could be 18 drinks in, and the only way you'd know she was shitfaced was the fact that she was dancing and talking about her body (not in an egotistical way, in a "TLC" program kind of way). So people believe her when she says she trades gold on the stock market or that she wants to have a four way gang bang and not use condoms.
She also has been part of my Larry situation, aka she's witnessed his amazing game as well. I think he asked her what she did when we were in Philly via Facebook, to which she responded "we lost Jock on the steps of the embassy suites. I think she was looking for you in the bar, can you go downstairs and check if she's still there". He signed off when he realized she wasn't going to fuck him, but that she was basically mocking him and his hairline, the whole conversation.
Then there's Jock. Jock is the quintessential "every person should have a friend like this" friend. I mean, bitch is crazy (I mean that in a good way). Her psychotic ramblings combined with my beyond shady behavior have led to some of the most random fucking situations ever. She once ate SHIT in front the the USMNT when we were in Chicago. I mean, like, the most epic fail ever. In a white dress no less. The dudes all know her, BECAUSE OF THAT. She basically missed a step, then fell and didn't put her hands up. Just ate it.
She then locked me out of our hotel room and I had to resort to sitting outside for 20 minutes waiting for her to wake up because she put the latch on the door. She's also been known to get the shit kicked out of her by dads at minor league hockey games. Twice.
She comes to my defense a lot. Once, at a hockey game, the dude I was seeing at the time was signing autographs and these cheeseball 15 year old chicks were screaming his name at him. He clearly was ignoring them. I then yelled his nickname that he actually responds to over the crow, he looked up, waved, and I told him we would meet up with him at the bar, that Jock, Lynn, and two of his teammates were heading out now. He nodded. And the girls looked at me like I was their sworn enemy. One of them called me a slut. And Jock unleashed.
"YOU'RE TRYING TO PICK UP A HOCKEY PLAYER ON AN AUTOGRAPH LINE AND SHE'S THE SLUT? YOU'RE 15. YOU CAN'T EVEN LEGALLY BONE THIS GUY WITHOUT CHRIS HANSON ARRESTING HIM"
She stalks on Twitter, she's a wiz at Google searching chicks who may or may not be engaged to dudes I'm banging, and she is just as shameless about it as I am, which is why we fit so well. Ideas that anyone else would think are totally batshit crazy and borderline ILLEGAL, Jock comes up with ways to make them even better.
Plus, she's the Splenda girl. Enough said.
I love my friends because while they aren't as psychotic about the athlete peen as I am, they are always up for a good time and have been known to sporadically plan trips that coincide with games. Our trip to Chicago, when I was going out to see soccer kid (not soccer hottie, this was pre-soccer hottie), was hands down the most bender weekend I have ever had. I survived 3 days on a total of 7 hours of sleep, vodka, corona, and sex. That's it. We drank so much that weekend if I fell and cut myself I would have bled booze. Jock found Gene Simmons twin and danced with him for like, an hour, while half the USMNT watched.
Perhaps the funniest part...ehh, debatable...one of the funniest parts....in Chicago, we had two queen beds. Lynn and I shared one, and Jock had the other. I rolled my ass in at like, 6 in the morning. Jock had gone home that night - we had a stupid fight because my soccer kid was trying to take her home to "sit on the couch and talk (awesome game this guy had. He clearly took lessons from Landon (and no, it wasn't Landon) Donovan)". Anyway, Jock goes home, I go home with soccer kids hot roommate, Lynn goes home with another dude...I roll in at 6 am. Lynn rolls in at 730 and crawls into bed next to me. I hear Jock get up at like, 720...she looks around the room then busts out her cell phone.
I'm like who the fuck is she calling at this hour.
Lynn's phone vibrates next to me. Lynn answers it.
"Hey...it's Jock...where are you?"
"....I'm in the bed next to you."
"Oh okay cool I just wanted to make sure you got home okay".
Jock is still talking to Michelle through her cell phone despite being 4 feet from her in the bed.
I met these two when my ex laxer broke up with me. We had all gone to high school together, but they were (and still are, duh) three years older than me. And once I graduated college, we all just found each other somehow...and our first big "trip" together was to see a minor league hockey game. And it all kind of started there, and was so telling. These two have been with me through the long haul of some of my mot infamous stories. They talked me off a cliff or two, they've heard me have fake sex in the training room of a hotel at 5 in the morning while they sat outside with his teammate joking about me getting laid, they stalk some of the players as badly as I do, and without Jock's AAA membership, we'd have had to pay a lot more in hotel bills for our trips. And they help me plan things that no one else is fucked up enough to plan. They have been a huge part of the last two years of my jersey chasing life. No way could I have done that shit without them. They are my own team.
So yeah, while not all my friends are into the athletes, I kind of corrupted these two, and I couldn't be happier about having them be part of the whole shady fucking operation. Jock is now officially just as bad as I am. We know each other's shadiness so well it's terrifying. And if we don't all end up marrying some members of a team in the near future, we'll end up being old cougar biddies chasing soccer dudes in Qatar in 2022. SO at least I won't be alone.
Sweating our balls off in Philly in sectoon GUAM row SOUTH EAST CHINA.
Our first jersey chasing/friendship roadtrip to an AHL game. At the time, we were stalking Garrett Klotz who plays for the AHL affiliate of the Flyers. We made signs.
Our first soccer game together in Chicago...after 2 hours of sleep, 3 hours of shopping, and basically owning Chicago for a night after having met the owner of two of the biggest bars in the city and being showered with free booze.
Jock, locating Gene Simmons twin brother at a bar in Chicago and dancing with him while the USMNT watched. This is about 25 minutes before she faceplanted and thought she broke her hip.