Abby's Birthday @ The Dime

I've decided that today is opposite day in the World of EggFury. So I'm going to try my best (or worst) to write this entry and still make sense.

To start it was just me and three of the UGLIEST girls I have ever seen in my life.



We got to the bar (which is ENORMOUS) and it was TOTALLY PACKED because Abby is totally LAME and had reserved NONE of the tables.



Of course you tell people ten o'clock and they all get there at eleven so we had some time to kill.

We spent the first hour FROWNING and BEING SILENT and NOT DRINKING really really DISGUSTING alcoholdrinks.



At exactly 11 o'clock, seriously in a span of five minutes, everyone DISAPPEARED.



The birthday girl was NOT THRILLED. (And looking super super HIDEOUS). (YUCK!)



The place was SO EMPTY and I was SO BORED I spent the whole night counting my FINGERS.




Also Abby's ex-boyfriend showed up who just happened to NOT BE AlexSarnoff who DID NOT go to high school with me and is ClarenceLee's SWORN ENEMY. I was totally UNSURPRISED to see him.



Also the TALLEST girl ever was there. She had REALLY SMART hair.



Also I just want to say (for the record) that I ABSOLUTELY ABHOR Chrispy and TL.



The night went on. I got exponentially MORE SOBER. (NO THANKS to Sarnoff and Co. who would not stop TELLING BOTTLES OF VODKA TO GO AWAY.)



IN WENT the DEATHDAY cake. Abs HATED it.



The night ended with a SOBERFACE marathon.






Also we went and ate some really delicious (and NUTRITIOUS) slices of SALAD.

N. on The Real World

So we all know that Frank is a total tool.



It all probably goes back about five years now since Franko came to visit at Brown one rainy Spring Weekend junior year. (N. and Frank go back to even before the first Real World Vegas)



He was charming, sure...



But totally obnoxious.



...........................

And now we all live in LA.

...........................

Frank and N. have stayed friends all this time.

Though a few things always seem to complicate their relationship...



Earlier this year, N. and her best bud Michelle went to visit Frank and the other douchebags, erm, i mean Real World-ers, as they filmed their new "season" in Las Vegas.

And...well...I think a general rule of thumb should be that when intoxicated, you should never ever EVERRRRRR sign a Real World waiver.

Sometimes it's better to be just another blurryface.

Because those editors...

They're MEAN.








(I have a video. But it has been removed. Email me if you want to see it.)

Paris Hilton on Larry King

Did anyone watch the interview?

It was one of the most boring interviews ever, probably because Paris Hilton is one of the dumbest people ever.

Hell, Paris Hilton is one of the dumbest walruses ever.

She denied ever doing drugs. Claimed to not be a big drinker. Basically lied her way through the entire interview.

I don't even watch Larry King but I'm pretty sure he killed billions of his own brain cells (and mine) just trying to talk to her FOR A FULL HOUR.

In fact, she was so hard to interview that in the end Larry reverted to listing "adjectives that may or may not describe Paris Hilton" and having her respond by answering "yes" or "no".

An excerpt:

LK: What's a personality trait Paris Hilton would change about herself?
PH: Sometimes when I'm nervous or shy my voice gets really high. (Note: NOT a personality trait.) I've been doing that since I was a little girl...and...uh...that's something I don't like that I do. I like when I talk in my normal voice....that's something I'm trying to change about myself.
LK: Are you jealous?
PH: No. (blink. blink.)
LK: Uh......quick to anger?
PH: No. (blink. blink.) I don't really get angry. (blink.)
LK: Easy to get along with?
PH: (blink. blink.) I'm very easy to get along with.
LK: Good friend?
PH: Very loyal friend. (blink. blink.)

Other great moments were when she read excerpts from essays she had written in jail which clearly demonstrated that she has the IQ and writing ability of a cucumber.

She'd take deep breaths every two or three sentences to keep her head from exploding, but then every time she used a big word like "pandemonium", "baffle", or "dignify", her eyes would light up and she'd pause and look around to see if anyone had noticed.

Oh Paris....

Such a foolio.

But as you will soon see, maybe not as foolio as our friend Naia...

KDG and Willy's real birthdays.

Forgot to mention that we went out last last weekend to celebrate the real birthdays of Smershy and William.

It was a small group. We cabbed it into downtown Manhattan Beach after spending the afternoon hanging around William's beachside apartment.



Waitress-girl insisted on car bombs.





And it was not long before Willy was w-a-a-a-a-aaaaasted...





But the bombs kept coming.



Around 10am Willy spat on the floor and we were kicked out of the bar.



We tried to go to Beaches next door, but our night ended abruptly when William was pulling out his ID...but then reached BEHIND his driver's license and handed the bouncer his ATM card instead.

Smershy's 25th

Went down to Venice just before sunset to catch the girls looking all prettified.



Then it was on to Nikki's to get the festivities started.



Mmmmm...waffle fries with THREE dipping sauces.

(In ErinCrapser's words, "YES YES DERRRICIOUS")



We were all starving and very eager to chow down...



And to pound some alkies.



So excited, in fact, that Katie dropped a quesadilla in her first drink of the evening.




Little Smershio (in town for his big sis's b'day) entertained with funny impressions...



And some long lost friends showed up, all looking smiley and hot.





Even Kristy managed to rekindle her love of drink for an evening.



Deerfield kids Colin and Kate stopped by.



Colin speaks Chinese. And you know how I love me some white boys that love me some China. (I love you, Kevin Ferrone. )

These two aren't really used to being followed around by the paparazzi yet.



It was a drink-filled, food-filled, friend-filled blast.






The fun didn't last long though.

Nikki's closes at 1.

Luckily, Walter knew about some "afterparty". The kind where you walk in and the homeowner is in the living room with three friends and they all kind of glare at you with a look of who are you and why are you in my home.

Being a group about fifteen strong we kind of disregarded them and planted ourselves around the kitchen and dining room.

There were three beers in the fridge. Clearly no preparations had been made for this home to host an afterparty.

An hour later, William arrived with beer (after taking a pit stop on the way to 7-Eleven to help a drunk and bleeding woman escape from her overturned gasoline-soaked about-to-explode SUV.)

Beer makes everything better.




Birthday parties rule.




Happy Birthday my sweet little Smershio!