Last night, Spliff and I met up with some friends for the Rock of Love/Flavor of Love casting call. No, we weren't auditioning but we did want to have front row seats for the skanktacular event. (Yes, I said skanktacular.) To our dismay, however, there weren't as many skanks as I had hoped. Just the normal amount for a Thursday night but there were cocktails. And you can't go wrong with cocktails. The highlights of the night included A Psycho Rasta encounter, a bunch of guys whose pants were entirely too tight/short or with highlighted hair, a really cute singer who played Jeff Buckley, and a lady with a sash and a tiara who was recruiting people to sign up for the show. They were doing the interviews in a different room so we didn't get to watch them, which was really disappointing, but we got to see Jerms and his band play and I got a free martini, so it wasn't a total loss.
I was a little irritated that the VH1 people wouldn't even tell us who was going to be in the next Rock of Love. I guess they can't, you know, because the show isn't over yet...(Even though Poison was just here a couple of weeks ago and Bret was seen with Lacey and that hoebag Brandi (the one who looks like a Barbie on crack, not the one who just went home)) but what was really weird was that they were interviewing for all of the shows at the same time and the interviewees didn't really get to pick what they were trying out for. That's sort of messed up...I can't imaging auditioning to be the love of Bret's life and showing up only to find out that I have to compete for the love of a human-sized turd. (Not that Bret Michaels is any better.) I'm just saying.
Either way, we were there on skank-watch and it was fairly uneventful.
Today was super eventful, however. I spent the majority of today fighting off a mob of wasps that have somehow infested my bathroom with various sprayable cleaning agents. This morning I walked into the bathroom and heard a buzzing and looked at the window and saw the silhouette of the bastard and (for the third time this week) and of course ran, screaming out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. It happens like this every time. I usually find the wasps right about the time that I finish my POT OF COFFEE and by that time, I have to pee so badly that I am already considering peeing in the yard. At this point, I close the door and pretend that I don't have to pee until it becomes so unbearable that I have to arm myself with a shoe and a bottle of Clorox Cleanup (I wish I had a beekeeper suit) and spray the fucker until he falls down. At that point, I leave the bathroom again and close the door. I usually go back in right before my bladder explodes and then I smack him with my shoe until I am satisfied that he is actually dead and not just pretending. Because I don't want him coming back to life and stinging me in some part of my anatomy that would only be exposed while I am peeing.
Today all of that happened and I avoided the bathroom until I could no longer hold it. I made sure the fucker was dead, did my peeing and left. Later, right about the time I was deciding to take a shower (at FIVE), I went back in to find ANOTHER FUCKING WASP. This time I put a cup over him, sprayed bleach on the floor and placed the cup over it, forcing Mr. Waspy to fall into the bleach to his death. Take THAT, wasp!
That's about the entirety of MY day...How was YOURS, internet?
Now playing: Old Crow Medicine Show - I Hear Them All