Attitude Problems

What's up with being a mean drunk? When I'm drunk I love all, and I want all to know it. My roommate and I had a party on Friday and her friends are a bunch of bitches. Shit-talkers (and not even in a hilarious, I don't mean this but I kinda do sense), disrespectful of the home that's hosting the party, and cruel.

I found a Guthrie employee passed out and the stupid little bitches had written all over his arms in permanent marker, wtf? At that point I wondered if I had done a time warp and was back in my home town at a high school party with a bunch of people I secretly hated. But guess what? I don't have so secretly hate these bitches, I openly hate them, everybody, I hate these bitches.

Also, the little bitches kept leaving the door to the apartment open. Perhaps, and this is just a theory, they were all born in a barn. I have a cat, and I really like her. I would rather she didn't run away, and if I was her, I would run as far as possible from the little bitches.

Also, after all my Guthrie friends had either left or passed out, I heard them talking shit! How DARE they! If I talk shit about my friends, it comes from a place of love. And yes, I am talking shit now, I realize that, but I believe I have more grounds than, "and that weird guy kept messing with the stereo and telling me my music sucked." Your music does suck, and you shouldn't be playing music anyway since it isn't your party.

Oh how I hate the little bitches. Guess what little bitches? NO MORE PARTIES AT THIS APARTMENT! If you're gonna be there, I'm sure as hell not.

Also, why do you all look the same? It's seriously like some sort of nightmare.

"I'm French, ***k you!"

How to spill the blog on an airplane: here

Rosedale Mall

Sometimes you gotta start drinking at 1pm. When your boyfriend says "Let's get on the 84 and go to the mall and get lunch and catch a flick," you gotta do it. If he says "I'll buy lunch if you get the movie tickets," you gotta do it. If you happen to get too drunk and miss the movie and then five hours later you're slamming PBRs and watching "Dude Where's My Car," you know it's all good.

For the truck of it.

I spent most of my day riding around the town in a truck and getting things done. I also managed to purchase knee high black boots, patterned tights, and some other shit from the thrify vintages shops I'm not going to bother listing. I'd like to tell all my readers here, I am the best thrifter you have ever encountered. I should really start an etsy shop and sell shit I find that you want on there, but I have bigger plans in the works. Oh yes, huge, gigantic plans... I'm drinking sake if you were that interested to know what compelled me tonight. I'm also waiting for my dude guy to get here and I'm alternating eating gummy worms and smoking cigarettes, this is because I am actually French and don't just want to be. I have citizenship and shit. I'd consider returning to my homeland if I could actually speak the language. I will keep tabs on Sugar's facebook page to learn words daily. Dudes here. Gotta go. Gotta let him in.

Bitches

I'm at a bar. Right now. I was just having a burger and a cocktail with Bombard, innocent enough right? A brigade of whores sat next to me almost immediately. Ignored, as much as possible. We were annoyed, asked for our check. As soon as the whores caught wind of this, they offered our seats to a group of vulture gentlemen who are staring down their shirts. So what do I do? I nurse my drink to the very last drop. It's watery, but still I sip. I chew the ice. I stir the last remnants of the Jameson and water. You offer up my chair before I get out? I will sit here until your gentlemen friends realize you are as annoying as you are. Treat me like a barrier, a cock-blocker, and I will most certainly become one. Believe.

to sir with love

Dear Sophie,
I'm so glad we've got to the point in our relationship that we can finish a BOX of wine together. Let's be friends...
xoxo,
Madeleine

Dear Madeleine,
We had a box of wine tonight and we're okay, right? I mean, you and I have been more drunk than this before, right? I mean, I may be mistaken, because you are my instigator for sure, and I don't remember a lot of our wine box nights together, but most of them end with chain smoking and talking about stuff we don't remember, and right now we're just watching Friends and, y'know, talking and laughing, right? We're okay. We are okay.
xoxo,
Sophie

Dear Sophie,
No bitch, we are totally cool. Apparently after holiday season our tolerance is a little upwards and we can dig it. I don't feel ridiculous right now, but I did have three glasses of wine at lunch too, I got a head start, a warm up...what's your excuse? And wee did have a damn hearty meal and that soaks up a shit ton of wine. Happy New Year you stupid French bitch.
xoxo
Madeleine

Dearest,
It's fucking 2011. What does that mean? That means 20BoxedWine. Does that register? That means that my tolerance, OUR tolerance, has increased. It increases every year, with age, with experience, with TOLERANCE. That means I need no excuse, aside from time and life, bitch. I am Kanye West, I do what I want. That's right, Taylor Swift, I will do what I want. Beyonce does "Single Ladies," and I will tell her it's the best video of the year if I want to. Does this make sense? Yes, it fucking does.
All the best,
Sophie
PS: Vegas belongs to me.

Mostest,
Oh, my gosh, I had so much fun on New Years. I'm not sure if I told you. I'm pretty much 30 now, so I should have a higher tolerance. I have to pee, hold on...
I just realized I have a little Charles Shaw left. We should probably destroy that tonight. We are French after all. There are tons of freaks here
xoxo
Mads

M-
Fuck yeah
-S

s
merica
m

M
MERRRRCAHHHH
S

anne, i mean s
FUCK YEAH
SSSarah-M

2011

That's my girl.