Jumping the hug gun (If you hug me I’ll punch you)

TBU’s office party was friday night at The Shadowbrook, which is where you have your Christmas party to prove how swanky you are. I’d link but their website is just so awful. TBU swears I didn’t, but I feel like I must have embarassed him. As if he needed an excuse here are some things he could choose from.

1) When we got there I told his co-workers that we were going to bring a flask, but we didn’t have time to make the stop for vodka.

2) The server spilled a whole bottle of red wine on our table, miraculously missing my white blouse. Three seconds later I ruined my sleeve in my salmon dish.

3) I screamed at someone that they must be from Kentucky because they didn’t know the rules of White Reindeer. Sorry Token, although if it weren’t for you, Kentucky wouldn’t even have come to mind and I would’ve blurted out Alabama or something.

4) I passed my camera around so people could take pictures. Moldy bread face was there wearing a corset (of all ways to de-emphasize you chest acne!). She asked if her friend, also wearing a corset, and her could take a picture of their cleavage (more on that friend later). I said, Why not? It’s not like everyone hasn’t already seen it. She looked at me all shocked and I yelled, Oh please! By the way, why would you want to take a picture of your cleavage at your office party with someone else’s camera? It’s a cool office and all but I’m not sure she realizes she doesn’t work for Hugh Hefner. In response, the lady sitting next to me and I took a picture of our cleavage (hey, it’s MY camera)

There’s the white shirt that narrowly escaped ruin but could not be so lucky twice in one night.

For the White Reindeer exchange TBU and I brought two gift certificates to Camouflage. One was made out to Ron Jeremy and the other to Betty Paige. Moldy bread face got one and I snuck away with the other. I’m getting a vibrator, she’ll probably get another corset because acne flakes on embroidered and whale boned cloth is totally hot. TBU made out* with an automatic card shuffler. Automatic as in when you turn the knob.

*He left with…he didn’t actually make out with an automatic card shuffler. That might be painful. Or not, considering the negligible amount of automatedness actually involved.

Dinner itself was tons of fun. I shouldn’t have drunk (drank, drunken?) as much as I did because I took some pills before hand (What pills? I’m not telling!) but as you can see from the examples above, all turned out well. Who could resist when offered their first ever flute of Dom Perignon? Not The Millionizer. The night ended with me walking bare foot through the restaurant. This girl and 4 inch heels do not mix, we all knew they were for show anyway.

I said goodbye to moldy bread face and her corset friend AND OH MY GOD corset friend moved in for a hug. What is wrong with people? I did not say one word to this person beyond our introduction. Like seriously 4 words were exchanged between us and I had only known of her existence for 3 hours. There is something so sad and repulsive about the I just met you hug. It’s empty and meaninglesss and I do not want to be dragged into it. It’s a superflous hug dripping with the false friendships of junior high. A desperate effort to secure alliances and convince yourself that you are loved and wanted. It is void of all emotional connection beyond mutual self gratification. I don’t want any part of their quest for love and adoration. Go hug your mom, or TBU, because apparently he is a manwhore who doesn’t mind pressing himself up against random girls’ chests. It’s not the fact that I just met her that was the problem. The problem was that we didn’t have any reason to hug, we didn’t talk and laugh all through dinner, she is not my new friend. She is still the corseted girl who came with moldy bread face to me. I can’t fathom going to a friend’s office party and initiating hugs with people I don’t know. It’s so fucking presumptiuous. I just met you and I didn’t talk to you all night but I know I made an impression and you love me so you must want to hug me. Who does that? Junior high prom queens and people who wish they were the junior high prom queen, that’s who.

It’s like on Friends when Chandler consents to being slapped on the ass to be a team player. He can’t not get slapped on the ass because then everyone will wonder what’s wrong with him but it’s like this close to sodomy. And that’s exactly how I feel. I may not be in the majority but I know I’m not alone.

I hugged moldy bread face (by this point I was obligated) and while I made sure my face didn’t touch hers she squealed, You’re so awesome! I smirk at this.

Onwards, shall we?

The water from the cieling and the resulting aftermath never really got resolved. I mean it did, but only because enough time has passed that the floor dried itself. I’m still pissed. On Friday we had people over to take care of the remaining moisture and mold that grew because people are completely half-assed at their jobs. The landlord had the nerve to be pissy with TBU and tell him that the mold wasn’t a big deal. Umfuckyou.

I was so consumed with that crisis last week, I didn’t even mention I got a haircut Monday. Inevitably, I get really excited beforehand and I’m disappointed afterwards. At first I really liked it, then I realized it was part The Rachel and part mullet. It’s crazy and it kinda works but I totally took my own scissors to it. I paid $80 after tip, which was way too much for something I had to fix. But that’s kinda standard around these parts.

I am completely in love with my button maker. I went through all the sets the machine came with and ordered 250 more. The new sets came today and I am back in business. So far I’ve made buttons with a crazy giraffe, a stencil picture of Mr. Poopers, one that says ‘Spreadsheets are sfxy,’ another one that says ‘Librarians Dewey it better,’ one for our friend who is a DJ with an 80’s style boombox, and a bunch for TBU’s office. I have 5 new ideas including:

1) Your sparkles are so beautiful
2) Life is the bubbles
3) Evil keeps me young
4) I heart backseats
5) I fuck like a librarian

Suggestions?

The Millionizer is drunk but not sincere

ps Do any Wordpress users know how I can get the date on my archives? There’s no date. It drives me crazy!

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