Re: on how to shut my play boy mouth

Someone recently told me that cynics are over critical about the things they lack in life. This means I am lacking a play boy mouth covered in cherry chapstick painted on my blank poker face.

My Judgmental Nature is obviously just jealousy in all of these skinny girls who seduce skirt chasing scum bags with hip gyrations while slamming down vodka redbulls and then trailing off to giggle secrets with their Friends.

Keeping with the philosophy that cynics are just lonely and "with out" it has become very clear that I have been deprived of these kind of Friends my whole life. The Friend who will graciously volunteer to be designated driver to let me unwind after my stressful week full of first world problems. And by unwind I mean get completely trashed. Supportive Friend that they are they will sit back and encourage me as I perform what is later quoted as "the most god awful kat perry cover of all time" in front of the newest Casanova I've been crushing on. Aware of my growing infatuation for said Don Jaun ,my Friend, like any good Friend, decides to put in a good word for me by describing in detail my ability to belch the alphabet, drink like a fish, the months worth of dirty laundry stuffed inside my closet, and the fact that I throw away tupperware as opposed to just doing the fucking dishes. 

Inebriated, I stumble into the bathroom followed by my Loyal Friend who holds my hair as I puke my guts out. Now, while I am not proud to admit this, it has to be said. I am a sensitive drunk. The kind of drunk that gets insecure and a little wishy washy after one too many drinks. I am so lucky to have friends who not only put up with this annoying behavior but also build me up when I am feeling down. After my date with toilet ,I stand up. Eyeliner smudged under my eyes, toilet paper stuck to my pumps, thong rising up my extra low cut jeans. My Friend tells me how gorgeous I look and how she over heard my New Man talking about how sexy it is for girls who are comfortable enough to kick it with the guys-burping, drinking beers. Giving me just the confidence boost I needed I stumble out to perform my somewhat famous version of the belched alphabet. Cheered on by my sidekick, the marco to my polo, my thelma, my Friend. Sitting in Casanovas lap for a Better View of my performance she applaudes: "you go glen coco."

Reformed cynic. Reformed Judge. Reformed Lonely Girl. I can see clearly now how much my life would be enriched with friends like this.