Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals

So I guess this is the point where I write a very witty post and have the entire Internet drowning in tears of laughter. Except I am suffering a mild case of writer's block. I have feelings. I do. And I'd want to write about them if I had any urge other than eat a lot of food (well, hello cookies and cream ice cream, where have you been all my life?) and watch episode after episode of Weeds.

Not that I've been sitting at home all week (after work) just watching Netflix and stuffing my face. That's just what I'm doing right now. Last night, I got to go out to dinner with a long-time friend Laura and we gorged ourselves on delicioso Mexican food and drank one too many margaritas, which would have been fine if the 2nd one hadn't been so damn strong.

Point to note: Tequila and Andrea don't mix.

I wasn't drunk, but tequila makes me sick to my stomach. So after dinner, I held my queasy belly and watched episodes of Weeds. Damn that show is awesome! How had I not discovered it up 'til now?

Where was I? Oh right, dinner with my friend. Laura is total awesome sauce and I've pretty much though she was the bees knees since senior year high school drama class. Hells yeah. Sometimes there is nothing better than greasy food, alcohol, and chatting with a girl you've known forever about your slutty days (I'm not sure which of us was sluttier. It was a close call.).

Note: we are old ladies now (Happy 30th, Laura! I'm right behind ya!) and have left our slutty days behind us. Maybe it takes until your late twenties to realize that quality not quantity is a saying for a reason. I thought I should point this out since I know how all manwhores have sonar for the word "slut" and come running like Batman to the Bat Signal. Like a Slut Signal.  And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

Um yeah.

So I work long ass days all weekend so I won't be posting until Sunday most likely. Unless perchance I get home one night with the overwhelming urge to write and then I'll just post like a blogger on meth. It will blow your mind, because you won't be expecting it. 

You'll be like, man, that crazy lady is blowin' my mind with all this unexpected posting right now! 

I know, your friends will say, she's like a some kind of blogging diva. 

And I'll bask in my glory. 

Of course, that prob won't happen since I'll be dragging my ass to bed the minute I get home. If I remember to wash my face and/or brush my teeth, someone should give me a medal. But that won't happen because I live alone. And all my cats care about is that I feed them. Asshole cats.