HEISGIRL: Fodder From a Female Football Fan

Living every week like it's Shark Week.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

100 Things

For the last four days I've found myself saying "don't forget to blog about x." So here it is: a blog entry about ecstacy. Actually since I can't even figure out how to spell it, obviously that's a bad joke. But there HAVE been a hundred things worthy of my dry wit and sensational humor, and unfortunately I've had no time and little internet connectivity.

Chapter One: The Birthday
I have a time-honored birthday tradition: go hard or go home. And hopefully, if you go home, you don't go home alone. For the last four years now, I have had some very outrageous birthday celebrations on my actual birthday. In more recent years I've developed a second birthday tradition called "If Jesus can do it, I can too" in which I celebrate my birth for the entire month, and into January (until the three kings arrive with more presents).

This year was slightly different from years past in that I celebrated in San Antonio and not Austin (only because the Alamo Bowl was the next day). I spent a nice loverly day with Sass and Ms. Case looking at wedding and bridesmaid dresses. FTP came over, and the four of us plus my parentals headed to dinner at a place I picked for it's name alone: Rita's on the River. Gotta love a pun. Ritas served margaritas in two sizes: regular and Texas-size. Since it was my birthday, I went Texas-size. Pictures are coming, but I literally think the city of Abilene (or Tuscola...) could have fit in that glass. I kept drinking and sharing and it never seemed to go down. Awesome.

After dinner we said goodbye to the parentals, and headed to a place I've always wanted to go to: Howl at the Moon. I didn't realize this until we got inside, but it's a piano bar, which is always nice and x-rated. As we showed the bouncer ids, some dude walks up and takes Sass's and is fooling around like "this doesn't look like you, blah-de-blah." She plays along and he says, "you look familar." This is where I chimed in, "she's an actress." He asks what she's been in, and I said, "I don't know if you've heard of a little film called 'Titanic.'" (This is a story we were able to maintain all nite, and Sass danced many a third class jig with many a man. It stil makes me laugh when I think about it.Guys are such idiots.)

As we start to walk in, a girl yells after us "It's $10 each." Before I could say "WTF I'M OUT OF HERE" Our new friend says he's got us covered. We all say thanks and he tells us he's part owner and he needs us to do a favor. Apparently that favor was letting him buy us a round. BEST FAVOR EVER.

When we walked into the main room, an undeniable stench hit us: Iowa fans. Apparently they'd had a pep rally there earlier, and the place was FILLED with Hawkeyes. The first thing FTP pointed out was that it meant I could get drunk and have people to yell at. That's a top five birthday present right there. As we scoped out the room, Sass, KC and I were transported back in time to our 2002 trip to Nebraska. On this trip we all agreed on one thing: Midwestern boys are hottt. You'll note that Iowa is in the midwest. So the answer to your qwestion is that yes I found some man candy, and yes I took him to the San Antonio version of Montgomery Corner. But no I didn't slut it up with him because I had to call my mom, the reverend, to come pick us up. Trust me...there is nothing less hot than saying "sorry, gotta go. my mom's out front in her Nissan Altima."

Chapter Two: The Alamo Bowl

I was plenty intoxercated on my bday, but surprisingly unhungover on gameday. We got downtown about 2 hours before gametime and wandered around the fan fest. KC's boyfriend played any of game where he could "throw shit," (shit being figurative as there was no actual dung available). Our seats were not half bad (again, lots of pics coming later), and I was thankfully able to sell our extra ticket almost immediately.

The game is old news now so I won't really bore you with details. The first quarter of the game I was not having fun. In fact, I wasn't quite sure how we were able to get to half time and only be down by 4. Of course the ineligible receiver call was the game changer. We go from being maybe down 21-3 to being within four. Ubelieveable play by Mr. Aaron Ross. Later in the game when he fumbled the return (You gotta hold it like a baaaaaby!) some douche sitting down the row from us yelled "Aaron Ross YOU SUCK!" I almost, ALMOST yelled back "No, YOU SUCK!" I don't care who you are, if you know one spit about Texas you know that Aaron Ross, Thorpe Award winner, most definitely does NOT suck. Douchetard.

The Alamodome has been abandoned by the Spurs, and is mostly used now for high school foozball games, concerts, and horseshows. I don't really know if the Alamodome staff knew that a major college bowl game was about to be played there. First, the toliets on our side were not flushing. So going into the restroom was like going to a portapotty. But in a porta- at least it's hard to see the presents others have left. There's no hiding it in a regular toliet. Disgusting. Later, Sass's fiancee (which I do love saying) went to get Nachos. Almost an entire quarter later he comes back with stale chips and five jalapenos. Ridick.

As we know now, Texas won. Yeeeeeah. The fireworks and balloons were quite comparable to the confetti that fell in Pasadena last year. Not.

Coming tomorrow:
Chapter Three: Vince
Chapter Four: Bowl Day (alternate title: F*ck you Dwayne Jarrett)


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