Thursday, August 25, 2011


As everyone probably already knows, Nadine and I are all kinds of gay for each other. So when I asked her what I should blog about, she responded "blog about me". Ok. You asked for it. For your enjoyment, I present: Stories Nadine Doesn't Want Me to Tell.

Let's start with the basics. Nadine and I have known each other since high school. In fact, she's one of the very few people from our school that I didn't hate. We bonded in senior year over the fact that I had not yet mastered the fine art of typing. She offered to type up my report for English that was due the next period (yeah, I was a real go-getter like that) and was amazed to find that I had more to say than "I love Derek Jeter" (I still do) and "I have a bunch of cats" (just down to the one now).

In fact, as she read through my report, her reaction was hilarious: "Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought you were a moron". The paper was on Beowulf so you might say our friendship is based on a solid foundation of intellect and fine literature. I think the following accounts of our craziest tales will solidify the notion that we are, in fact, worldly, intelligent ass bitches.

Quote of the Day

Quote of the day was a magical time for us. It started very early in our friendship. At the ripe age of 19, we realized we were comic geniuses and should turn our musings into a book. Here is a sampling of "the book".

"Nothing fixes a relationship like cookies and anal sex."

"I don't want to be the one to push him off the overpass onto (route) 46."

"When you're puking on Rob's bathroom floor; that's what friends are for."

"I told that bitch to put away his emotional baggage and do me."

Oh, were you looking for a story or plot of some sort? Sorry, that isn't what the book was about. The book was our Twitter in 2001; essentially every stupid phrase that crossed our lips was "the book". We were so WITTY!

Drinking Times

Drinking was 100% more fun when I was underage, and I think Nadine would agree. My mom visited her boyfriend, who lived a few hours away, every weekend, so every weekend became party time at my house. There are so many stories.

When drinking with Nadine, it's very important for YOU to know her limits. Because, ummm, she doesn't. Or at least she didn't back when we would drink every weekend. Nadine's stages of drunk go something like this:

Stage 4: I'm currently vomitting in my hair.

I will share one of our drinking stories with you today:

We were big fans of beer pong (except it was mixed drink pong when we played it). There was the time we were playing mixed drink pong and after 3 or so rounds, the rest of us got bored and stopped playing. Nadine didn't realize this and set up 4 more sets of cups (we were playing twosies, obviously). When we told her we didn't want to play anymore, she decided she couldn't let those drinks go to waste and pounded all four sets of cups. Did I mention that Nadine mixes a REALLY strong drink? At some point after that, she started walking around with a bottle of Captain Morgan and ate some Captain Crunch. The Captains had a brawl. I think it's obvious which Captain won. After Captain Crunch was tossed out of the bar that had become Nadine's stomach and passed out on the proverbial couch that was her hair, she made her way to our friend's shower. She then passed out with her head in the shower. Just her head. Which doesn't really explain why she got completely naked.

Gross Stuff

Then there are the stories that will live in infamy forever, for no other reason then that they are too horrifying to forget. They are as follows:

The time Nadine nearly amputated her thumb on broken glass. I was not there for this incident, but apparently she had left a trail from her door to a blood stained note that said something along the lines of "went to the hospital" for another friend who was on her way over. I'm very glad I didn't see that one, because I would have been pretty convinced she was dead.

The time I caught her and her boyfriend having sex in her pool. Another friend was with us, and he had left. And apparently she was under the impression I had left too. "Oh, you're still here?"... Yes, but not for long, I can promise you that.

And since I've told all of her embarrassing secrets, I suppose it's only fair if one of these stories is embarrassing for me:

The time we were driving down the parkway and I had the brown cow knocking at the back door. A few minutes after we stopped so I could use the bathroom, I came running out of the rest stop and just said "we have to go" because you know how sometimes when you are in view of a bathroom, it intensifies the need to shit by like 1000%? And as you are pulling your pants down, you ass decides you are no longer clenched enough to continue to hold it in? And you get shit on the walls? And you are 18 years old so you don't have the class to clean it up and you just hustle out of the bathroom and hope the other patrons don't start chasing you with torches? No? Just me then.

In conclusion, Nadine is goodtimes. We have fun and do stupid shit and have lots of stories. Perhaps I will share more of them with you one day.


Nadine said...

Welp, I asked for it I guess. We should have a roast... not like a roast beef, but for my birthday I want to be roasted like a comedy show, you know? Let's feed my narcissism.

Jaclyn said...

I thought we were going on vacation for your birthday? I'd love to feed your narcissism, but I think it's favorite food is booze and dick.

AKD said...

Nadine sounds fantastic. Your crap story had me laughing so hard I almost woke Alice.