You are a filthy hore...

I awoke Friday heavy headed, slipped back on my dress of the previous evening and went into the living room where Beach Chic slept on the floor. Beginning to stir awake she reached above her head where her tiara had rested and, eyes closed, grasped it and replaced it loosely clinging to her head as her head still rested upon her pillow.

Ren rose from her slumber on the couch. Standing up she asked where the bathroom was located. I looked at her, laughed and pointed to the open door at the back of the house. “Right there, where your pillow and blanket are still laying on the floor from last night, as you couldn’t leave that room for quite a while.”

She stumbled back and Beach Chic told me that Vin, her boy du jour, was completely over her. We had just hung out with him at the party so I was completely confused. “How do you know, we just saw him?”

She reached over, grabbed her cell and proceeded to read me several text messages he had sent her through the wee hours of the morning:
“Lose my number”
“I don’t want to talk to you ever again”
“You are a filthy hore” (His spelling – not mine)
“I never want to see you again.”

Oh… well perhaps he was over her. Maybe too many tongues were touched the previous evening and an ego was bruised… whatever the cause I told her, “That’s too bad, because I have his [very nice] jacket from last night.” She laughed and was stoked to have ransom. She then sent him a text, “Want your jacket back you filthy ‘w’hore.”

We decided if you really are going to get all worked up and tell someone off via text, spell your friggin’ words correctly, lest you not have the desired effect and we merely make fun of you forevermore.

Ren came out of the bathroom saying that she got something on her dress and the couch was all wet. I laughed and told her that she peed herself. (Laughing only because it wasn’t my couch… I’d a killed the girl). Ren said that she didn’t pee because she never has before. I told her there’s a first time for everyone.

Ren returned to the bathroom as Beach Chic sat still on the floor, tiara crooked on her head, saying, “Seriously who knew that tomorrow could look this good?!?” She had a point… morning after and all she still was smokin’… It may have helped that she sat there nearly topless as her dress had slid down and her perfect breasts stood out saying “good morning” to the world as Sissy and Construct came out of his room.

Sissy sat on the end of the couch Ren had slept on as Ren returned from the bathroom. Sissy got up moving to the other side of the couch saying that something was wet on the previous side. Ren sat back in it and said, “I know, my ass has been in it all night.” I laughed and again told her that she must have peed.

We waited for our cab as Ren stood up smelling the wet spot, Sissy grabbed a camera, Beach Chic posed, I shared my pee stories and Construct looked on in disbelief (Mr. Wonderful had left for work already).

Our cab arrived and as I opened the door Beach Chic gave our regular driver the greeting of “Bitches Hollah!” screaming from her still-seated position on the floor. On the drive back to her house, Beach Chic decided that we shouldn’t be homeward board yet, we all needed to go down and have some shots.

I reminded her of the job that I have, that I was already late to. They dropped me off at the house, as she Ren and Sissy headed out for their morning cocktails. I later found out that Beach Chic was cut off by 9 am.

Dear Lord… to be 22 again. No thanks… but what fun.