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12:24 p.m. - 2004-11-13
Drop It Like It's Hot.

Or, what happens when you mix 4 girls in an altered state of mind with a digital camera and too much eyeliner.

Last night, we had a girls' night at BFRB's house. Me, BFRB, KG, and TM got together for some drinking and smoking and picture taking activities. Being that we were in the ghetto, we decided to play some ghetto music...get our "yo" on, so to speak. We heard the song "Drop It Like It's Hot" at least five times in a four hour period. Yes, our radio stations here in the OKC area pretty much suck on a stick.

We voted BFRB the best photographer, and me the worst. See, me and cameras don't get along. I either break them, or take the worst pictures on the planet. Every once in a while, I take a good one...kind of like that saying about 700 monkeys and 700 typewriters and 700 years, you get Hamlet. Just call me the monkey that got lucky.

Time to back that ass up a little and tell some stories....

The girls' night plan was to go to the gym, shower, change, get fucked up, eat pizza, drink beer, and then commence with the picture taking. You know what they say about plans, right? Yeah, okay. So, at about 4:45 yesterday, I send BFRB an e-mail saying that I may be a little late to the gym because I have a meeting with my boss. (No biggie, just sort of a status thing. My boss has no idea that I spend most of the day at work updating my diary. It's not my fault that I'm smart enough to do my job in half the time it takes everyone else. I do actually get some shit done occasionally...) She e-mails back and says "take your time, because I'm looking for any excuse to avoid the gym."

Up until this point, I was telling myself that, no matter what slacker thoughts were lurking in my heart, I was going anyway. That e-mail, however, gave me permission to shout my secret thoughts from the highest hills. When I got home (really only 15 minutes late), BFRB pops her head out in the hall. I pop into her apartment, and we look at each other and make a pact to blow off the YMCA. So then, we were hungry. And since we weren't going to the gym, we decide to head for some Taco Bueno. I figure, if you're slacking, make it count....

However, we had not heard from TM, and the last we heard from KG was that she was going home (about a 30 minute drive) and would be back at 7. So we call TM, and she doesn't answer, nor does she call back right away. Therefore, BFRB and I decide that we're going to go get our snack on and proceed to the Bueno.

While we are face-first in our nachos, TM calls and informs us that she and KG DIDN'T blow off the gym, and they're going to be at our apartments in 30 minutes. We were also thoroughly chastised for our (a) slacker-ness and (b) snackiness. Oops. We felt bad. For about 30 seconds.

Finally, the Fab Four are all in one location. We bust out the pipe, the beer, the bottle of crown, the shot glass, the chaser (Mountain Dew), the makeup, and the camera.

Here's some of what happened. (Note: I cannot possibly post all of the pictures. First of all, as you can probably imagine, some of them are not fit for the viewing public. Plus, there are at least 100 of them. I don't think I have that much image hosting space, nor do I have the patience to upload all of them, nor do any of you have the patience to wait three days for my webpage to load.)





We're so hot. You should drop us, yo.



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