You think your life is in shambles...

So. As I was getting ready this morning I was watching GMA and heard a little news story about a brother, brother, sister crime trio that is on the run in the south east.  Something about one brother cut his ankle monitoring bracelet off and then they started firing shots at a cop who was trying to pull them over for speeding and then they robbed a bank in Georgia and now these 3 are totally MIA.  (You can read here for a more professional journalistic account.)

But as GMA was reporting on this, two things popped into my mind. 

1)  Evidently they think this crime spree started because one of the brothers just had to register as a sex offender for sending inappropriate text messages to an 11 year old.  And this brother has a baby on the way and he was worried that he would no longer be able to see his kid.  Well. Dumbass. Let me tell you a little something, if you were not going to be able to see your kid then... you're for sure not going to see him/her now because you're going to be in JAIL.
2) They do not know where these 3 siblings are, but they have texted their mother.  You see, I am not a detective, but I have watched a lot of detective shows and seen a lot of news stories about pinging cell phones off of cell phone towers.  Have you not thought about that?  I mean a billboard campaign over pinging cell phone towers?  I am lost.

But with that said.  I must work today but remember your life is totally not in shambles if you compare yourself to those 3.

Sex on the Beach Round Two

With summer drawing rapidly to a close, I thought it might be time to return to the sex on the beach discussion. After enjoying some animalistic sex under a pier with The First, I headed for Spring Break my senior year of college single and ready to mingle with guys I didn't know. I left single and having had sex with The Spring Fling. Not exactly what the game plan was but it could be worse I suppose.

You see, The Spring Fling was ( I guess still is) a year younger than I was and was in the group that traveled with us to Florida. He was handsome but not the type of guy I would typically go for. He was fratastic with brown hair and eyes, a nice build that he covered with polos and khaki shorts. I didn't know him all too well before we left for Ft. Lauderdale and to be honest, when we left I didn't know much more about him except he may have been a manwhore as I'm reasonably certain he fucked another girl the night before we had sex on the beach.

Of course, as with most of my college antics, I was hammered with this sexual shenanigan occurred but I'll fill you in the best I can. Unlike the previous excursion on the beach, this one started after a long night of drinking at the bars with our friends. It was our last night in Florida and we partied like it was our last night on Earth. When we got back to the hotel, 8 of us were crammed into a hotel room after losing one of our rooms (long story short, we were fucking out of control). So we changed into pajamas, grabbed more booze and headed down to the beach playground (yes, playground). After an hour or so more of drinking, everyone but The Spring Fling and I headed back up to the hotel room. We wandered on the beach, acting like fools, and once again I somehow ended up being the recipient of a tickling that led to sex (side note, how does that keep happening to me?).

Suddenly we're rolling around on the towel we had brought down and clothes are pretty much being torn off with haste. This was not like some romantic rendezvous a la Cocktail. In fact, it was short on foreplay and long on hard thrusting. Surprisingly enough, consider the amount of rolling around we did prior to insertion, no sand made it anywhere it shouldn't have been. In fact the sand on your back added another dimension. Made it feel rough and, again, animalistic. It felt like we were so full of lust we would explode from it. There was no though, just action. And it was exhilarating knowing anyone could spot us from down the beach or even their hotel room and would instantly know what we were doing. The likelihood was slim since it was around 3:30 am but not so slim that almost immediately after finishing, we saw flashlights bobbing in our direction. We sprang into action, but since I couldn't seem to locate my pants, my logical conclusion was to run and jump into the ocean. Because what other way can one hide pants than to cover oneself with water and pray the cop doesn't haul you out of the ocean half naked?

Lucky for me, the cop obviously knew a thing or two about drunken college kids. He chastised us for being out on the beach after hours and told us we had ten minutes to make ourselves scarce. So, after he had wandered a ways up the beach, The Spring Fling was nice enough to carry the towel over to me and bundle me up for the walk back to the hotel. We ended the night spooning on a pool float on the floor of the hotel room. Of course since I had no pants, I was forced to wear his boxers. Which meant everyone knew exactly what happened on that stretch of sand...

Sex Dreams...Part I

Okay so one of my friends (hello there, Amanda) Blackberry Messaged me the other night and in the course of the conversation revealed that she had a dream about me. And it was kind of weird. And if brought to my attention that I have not discussed sex dreams on the site yet. So, as I told Amanda, I'm addressing it now.

Now before all of you start thinking Amanda is a lesbian who is in love with me I will let you know her dream did not involve a sexual encounter with me. But it did get the wheels rolling in my slightly sleepy head so here I am discussing it now. Also, it brought to light a very glaring hole in my sexual education. Basic run down of Amanda's dream: she and someone else went out and then she came back to my place. While waiting for me to arrive she turned on the TV to find porn. When she heard me at the door, she pretended to be asleep so as not to discuss the porn on my TV with me. (First, the glaring hole in my education is that I have never watched porn. Secret Diary of a Call Girl, Big Love, Californication, Weeds,Entourage and the Tudors are about as close to porn as I have ever gotten.) How would you handle this situation? Even in dream world Amanda opted to ignore it. Thanks for that darling.

That same night, after conversing with Amanda, I proceeded to have the weirdest dream about a friend of ours who is a cop (yes, Chloe and Amanda, that cop). In my dream, he burst into a house to bust another friend of ours who was breaking into the house for a hook up. Trust me, if I got into the details of this you'd wonder about the company I keep. I question it myself. Anyway, the cop bursts in...

Wearing nothing but a gun holster and his boxers.

Thankfully, my alarm went off before someone could pants him or something else utterly ridiculous. This dream has the makings of a porno as I've heard of them but it's still utterly embarrassing. I have never even seen this guy without his shirt off so I obviously filled in his abs for him. Congrats buddy, in my dream you have a six pack. And you're tanner- you've obviously been GTLin' it. And no I have never considered seeing this kid naked either. But was it the start of some sort of kinky sex dream? I mean who doesn't love a man in uniform? And out of one apparently...

Lucky Bitch...

Tell me, have you had crazy dreams that could have been leading up to a sex dream? Or dreams like Amanda's where you found out something sexual about a friend?

That's a Hell of a Ride

So this is an old story that I recently found in my emails to a friend Chris. Since I have failed to update this recently due to having multiple jobs and even more blackouts, I thought I would post this story to demonstrate how retarded I can really be.

I'm from a town in Georgia and for the Memorial Day holiday I decided to go home and visit. So I got into town on Thursday am. Hung out with my mom and sister for a bit (aka played tennis and drank beer which I know you can appreciate). At 6 my best friend picked me up and we headed to my college town. Get there and start getting ready to go out. Well the friend we will be staying with is going to be bartending that night at Allgood so she's drinking some rum, club soda and lime juice before her shift and we decide to join her. I drive us downtown around 9:15 since somehow I'm the most sober(some people just can't hold their liquor). Now I think the original plan was going to be to Bar Hop but I apparently decided if the drinks were free why bother leaving my two favorite bars? First I hit up some new bar to visit the hottest bartender alive (Female mind you and I would totally go lesbian for her). She makes us a few shots and then we head over to the bar my former neighbor co-owns. I walk in to several people waiting on me and the night begins. I think total I had maybe 7 drinks over the course of the night. I pretty much stuck to shots. Including my least fave-Goldschlagger. I wanted to vomit right then but I didnt.More people start showing up and the owners of the bar (who are close friends of mine) couldn't be happier with all the rounds of shots we are buying. A former sorority sister of mine decides to buy the newest shot on the chalkboard.I don't know if you know what it is but it's called The Motorboat. Basically,the owner or bartender of your choice (or in this case my friend's choice) sits you on a bench, straddles you, tips your head back, and pours liquor out of a bottle into your mouth while he literally motorboats you. It was out of control. At about 12:15 I decide it's time to head to the bar I pretty much lived in junior and senior years of college. I have no memory of being there. Thank God for the pictures. I think I went on a kissing spree-planting one on anyone who was fortunate enough to pass by me. And I know we did more rounds of shots. Apparently, around 2 am I told everyone I had to use the bathroom. Which I am pretty sure I did before blacking out completely.

I woke up at 2:45 am to a bright light in my eyes and somebody shaking me. Evidently, I tried to walk to my old apartment (something I had even mentioned to everyone would probably happen). But I didn't quite make it. I passed out in front of my old dorm from freshman year which is about 2/3 of the way there. The cops found me passed out half on the sidewalk and half in the cross walk leading to another co-ed dorm. The female cop wanted to arrest me for drunk and disorderly. The male cop argued that I wasn't disorderly, I was "pleasant". They offered me a ride home to which I apparently retorted, "Wow, you are going to drive me all theway to NJ? That's a long ride in the back of a cop car." To which, he laughed and she ran a check on me. Which came back with nothing because I'm an idiot who thus far has managed to avoid getting busted. Finally, obviously annoyed beyond belief by my inability to answer a question and her partner's reluctance to do anything about me, she grabs my cellphone and calls the last number that called me and hands the phone back to me. My friend answers and asks where the fuck I am and I respond with, "You might want to talk to the officers I'm sitting with."

My sober friend picks me up. Now this is another part that is fuzzy. Rumor has it I went to his apt and crashed on his couch for 2 hours before the bartender friend picked us up. At 7 am I woke up in a bed next to my best friend with my camera and my phone next to me. I can't find my purse.My fucking coach purse. My fucking $200 coach purse that was a Christmas present from my aunt. With my Amex, my debit card, my lip gloss, and $12 in it. Not to mention MY ID. Which, hey, is kind of important as I CAN'T GET ON A FUCKING PLANE WITHOUT IT!Thus begins my second encounter with the cops. I wont bore you with those details but suffice to say, my best friend and I go retracing the route I probably walked to the dorms, we call to file a police report, and then head to the DMV to get a new ID. Which I was denied. Oh and cancelling my credit cards was loads of fun. All before 9 am. So my best friend drives me back to Snellville where I call my mom crying. We finally talk to TSA who tell me I can drive to the airport with someone who has a valid ID. That person will vouch for me, they will draft an affadavit saying my purse was stolen, take my picture and notorize it. It has to be done on Friday or else I can't fly home on Monday. As we are heading to the airport, my phone rings. The Bank of America in my college town is calling to tell me SOMEONE TURNED IN MY PURSE. So now my mom has to turn around and drive me an hour to get the damn thing.Yeah, that's right, luck of the Irish. Everything was in it- all the cards, the lipgloss, the cash and the ID.The best part about it? Not one of my friends is pissed at all. The Friday after this, was my best friend's birthday and she spent the first two hours driving my still drunk ass around looking for my purse, talking with cops and sitting in a DMV and she thinks the whole thing was hysterical. The guy who picked me up before the cops could change their minds and arrest me called me to tell me to give him the heads up for the night I move home- he'd like to organize another crazy night with me. I'm not sure my purse can take another night of this. My mom and dad weren't pissed at all- they just told me they thought after getting two degrees that I was smart enough to know you only went to bars with your ID and cash in your pocket. All in all everyone was pretty cool.I guess I learned my lesson. For now. I give it a week before I fuck it up somehow.