Can I please get some tin foil???

Well first let me discuss the sober things that bothered me on this day. I spend A LOT of time in the car driving and I hate inconsiderate people on the road. I concluded that if you have to sit on top of the steering wheel and have to have two hands clenched to the wheel, you should INDEED get your ass out of the left lane. I also concluded that you should not be allowed to drive even in the right lane if you are going to drive 10 miles or less under the speed limit. (I damn near plowed into this old Q-Tip for that. Granted I was playing with my iPod and traveling 10+ above the speed limit, but still...) Also, if the bed of your truck is filled with SHIT, it should be in garbage bags. I damn near ran over 2 bird gourds and assorted pieces of trash because some guy in a Ford Ranger puffing away on some Winstons was littering all down I-10. Strap it down or get on 90 buddy. Swerving is dangerous.

Now on to the fun shit. I finally arrived into town after having to work in the hot sun all day. I was parched and reuniting with some of my favs from Mississippi in the PCB. While the condo was gorgeous, that place is super skanky. Seriously, there are more belly button rings still running around there than anywhere I know. Girls have their nails painted in the tackiest of fashion and they dye their hair using Pepe Le Pew as a guide. That said, let's drink.

We go ahead and pre-party with banana daiquiris. (If you haven't bought the banana puree and some coconut rum, you need to) I get everyone addicted, including my friends this weekend. I don't even like frozen drinks. Then we head over to Sharky's. It is KaraNOke night. Oh yay!!! There were lots of families out there. We had a terrible waitress (by terrible I mean I had a tab with her and one at the bar in order to keep myself hydrated). She kept calling my babygirl everytime I asked for something. I CANT FUCKING STAND TERMS OF ENDEARMENT. I don't even like hot boys calling me sweetie, so that was really getting on my nerves. I knew immediately I would get her back for this at some point. Let the Q and A begin.

I order some quesadillas. I order more beer. We start to order chocolate cake shots (Also very delicious and easy to drink). Some little girls start singing this "cheater cheater where did you meet her that low down white trash ho" song. I start screaming does your mother know you are on stage singing about hoes? I google the lyrics and find someone named Rory and Joey sing it. I think I will download it. I order more beer. I realize I need a to go box. The waitress is nowhere to be seen. So in all that extra time I realize a box won't work because it won't fit in my purse for the rest of the bar hopping. What to do....

My friend Kay has a mohawk. A blue mohawk. I do a photo shoot with it. (me sticking my tongue out, flipping it off, caressing it, etc) I will post the pictures when I get back to Tallahassee. Earlier in the evening I suggested he decorate it in themes. I told him he could hide Easter eggs in it and randomly ask people if they want to go on a hunt. Maybe they would like to play touch football in the astroturf. Really the mohawk and the things I could do with it kept me very entertained. As I am sitting there brainstorming for the mohawk, I realize I should ask for aluminum foil because it will fit in my purse. I am playing the scene out, "SCUSE ME!! Can I get some aluminum foil for my Quesadillas?" and it hits. I should ask for tin foil. She already thinks I am stupid anyway. I might as well let her think I am a redneck too. (earlier we had the idea we were going to get t-shirts airbrushed and do a photo shoot on the beach and I had asked if she could be our photographer. Asked if she had some hot rollers we could borrow, asked any dipshit thing I could think of. *note-sadly drinking got in the way and this plan did not pan out)

Shana says she is going to sign me up for the "I survived a Japanese game show" (I am not familiar) I am good and buzzed. I announce I will dominate them! I will drop an atomic bomb. Everyone is laughing their ass off and can't believe I said this. Everyone in the bar probably hears me, which is funny considering we are outdoors. They start calling me A-bomb at this point. I giggle more. I get a beer. We get chocolate cake shots. I ask the lesbians at the bar to take a picture of us and our shots. I engage them in conversation for a minute and go back to my party. I am working on another beer. I also decide to confiscate all the saltine crackers off the table and put them in my purse with visions of handing them out to drunk people dancing in my head or eating them myself. Of course, I made sure to proclaim myself as Premium and take a picture with the Premium cracker before dropping them all in the purse. I am still worried about this tin foil situation. Amanda, the shitastic waitress is still nowhere to be seen.

I look up and see the lesbians macking on each other. I point and say, "look they are making a double egg omelet." By far one of the dumbest things I have ever said drunk. I cried it was so funny though. And for those of you living in a closet, it was 2 chicks with eggs and no sperm= double egg omelet for drunk Ashley. Tears really welled out of my eyes on this.

There is some old lady at the bar in a shiny silver shirt, short shorts (too short shorts in fact), and some little silver pointy shoes. She also has a head full of blonde hair and 65 years worth of tanning bed inflicted wrinkles. I begin to call her Debbie Reynolds Wrap because I am bored and want tin foil. I make it a point to get a picture of her face. As luck would have it, the wind blows a receipt over and she comes over to pick it up. Meanwhile, I am shamelessly snapping a photo. And then Kay becomes my hero. He strikes up a conversation. "Didn't we see you at the pool? You have to take a picture with me." JACKPOT!! Lord, Debbie Reynolds Wrap was a hott mess. (This photo will definitely be uploaded) She did have a diamond mine on her hand though, so it is possible she is not that ditzy and just doped up on some prescription drugs.

Finally Amanda shows back up. Ever so serious, I look at her and say I need you to help me. I need some TIN FOIL. Really emphasizing the tin. I don't laugh (by some miracle) She is like, "you need a box?" No, I need foil. A box is not gonna fit in my purse and I plan on getting drunk and needing to eat this at the next bar, so I need some tin foil. She vows to find me some. We drink more and more and more. Now I want to leave. I still have no foil. Amanda cruises through. "AMANDA, I was serious about that tin foil." She claims they are looking for it.

Seven minutes later Amanda appear with my shiny tin foil. I make her pose with it for a picture. Shana then has the best idea ever and thinks my tin foil should be folded into a bull like they do at Longhorn. We fold it into a bull. Then we have group shots (Amanda included) with the bull. In fact, I demanded she kiss the bull horn, but be careful not to get any slobber on it in one picture. We move onto the next bar. Kay decided to leave us. I made sure I did a photo shoot with the shark outside before leaving.

Sadly, we were all pretty much drunk by then and this bar wound up being lame for many reasons. More KaraNOke and it was a locals' joint. They are rude and the bartender was a bitch, wouldn't wait on us worth a shit cause she was too busy with the local pervs that gave her $3 and told her she was cute (WHICH WAS A LIE! Granted I like males, but I will admit if a girl is hot. She was quiet the opposite). And it was smokey. I don't know why anyone is still allowing smoking in a bar. There was the fucking trashiest looking Elvis impersonator ever there. Sadly, I did not take his picture, but I did get one of me pretending to grab his ass when he didn't know it. I asked him to sing Kentucky Rain 10 times. The douche bag didn't. We split. Called a cab to take us .5 miles. We did unwrap my shiny tin foil bull and have a Quesadilla snack while waiting. The cab driver tells us there has been a power outage. We don't pay attention. She charges us $10 for .5 miles. She doesn't get a tip because 1)that is ridiculous inflation 2)she was not funny.

We are barely in the door when the fucking power goes out. I prop open the door and let the hall light in. We look out the window and all down HWY 98 is blacked out. Some drunk mother fucker hit a power pole. It is 90 degrees outside. I am drunk and sleepy. I attempt to update my facebook status before going to bed.

This is the result:

Ashley Hollis does not appreciate that the power went OUT in panama city and is gonna continue tobeout beacuse some dr"

I prematurely submitted that one. I am too apathetic to care. Right. I go to sleep. I wake up still drunk the next morning. I cook breakfast for everyone. We eat. We go back to bed for three hours. We wake up and eat the rest of breakfast. Now the beach tale can officially begin on the next entry. I have to go to bed now.

Last Night

Well I had my hair color vibrantly restored yesterday. I think it upped my sassiness level too. The night started at Bonefish. One bottle of wine and shit started being fun. There was some IBM help desk guy sitting by me (not really). He had a Southern accent. I can honestly say, I have never met someone of India Indian descent that talked with a twang. It was like eating hot ice cream (aka very unnatural and unsettling for my mind). There were 3 of them and they kept butting in my conversation. They were lame-o lawyers and I could have eaten them for lunch with my wit. I am guessing they weren't money making criminal defense kind nor would I need them for a future divorce because they weren't that ambitious. I would be left with nothing but the kids and no money if they were on my side. Well actually, now that I think about it they worked for some government office. Yeah, now you are agreeing with the lame-o thing.

Side note-ghandi didn't eat tuna because he was allergic to shellfish.

So, I pissed the black female in the group off by saying I hate Shaq. (he was on EPSN being traded for the 10th time. Seriously, someone should trade him to a nursing home) I think she really thought I was racist. So then I had to explain that the hatred stemmed from the fact I had never seen him and I went to see the Suns and Magic play while I was in Arizona specifically to see him. He didn't play because his grandmother had died. Well then they thought I was racist and heartless. Seriously, his grandmother died like 2 weeks before that. Normal people don't get that long off. Why should Shaq? Well I don't even know how I ended that conversation, but I did and I left. On to the next bar/big thing.

Once arriving, we proceeded to order another bottle of wine. I asked some jackass if I could sit by them because I couldn't very well carry a bottle of wine around. He proceeds to say (and I quote), "I don't know, can you?" I roll my eyes and say yes and sit my happy ass down while announcing that I apologize I didn't know we were playing a game of "mother may I". Fuckers.

Well as it happens this fellow is named Demar (like the ocean?). He is the 4th one named Demar in his family. He is white and from NC. (I think him and the IBM telemarketer/lawyer from Bonefish must have been switched at birth. Demar is much more Hindu sounding) He thinks I am funny. I think his name is Demar? WTF? Yeah I stayed stuck on the name. He is getting a phd in opera. Even weirder. We laugh and chat. I secretly wonder if he has a cat. He acts like he likes girls, but I am sure he much more into the soap on a rope prison type fantasies. I don't even remember that other dudes name, but he had some jacked up hair and I apologize for not getting a picture. If I knew his name I would locate him on facebook so you could see. It was a wreck.

Well Demar made the mistake of engaging me in sports talk. He proclaimed the ACCs superiority to other conferences. FAIL!!!!!!! Demar became Dimwit. The SEC is God fucker. He is still arguing, so I say "who won the CWS?" answer SEC "who won the national football title? answer SEC! Then Dimwit butts in and says who won the soccer title. My response, we only allow females to play soccer to give them something to do. We don't even recognize it as man sport in the SEC. We are Americans and do not give a shit about that game. We continue to fight. I continue to call the ACC lame outside of their basketball dominance (but I also reminded him Michigan took that this year which is pathetic for the ACC too). I finally can take no more of his ignorance so I have to get up and relocate to the other side of the table to talk to other people.

Well this too quickly goes South. I was sassing last night I tell you. They have overheard most of my ACC bashing and SEC bragging and ask where I went to school. So I say Ole Miss. They like fucking LSU. I hate LSU. Corndogs. Then he proceeds to talk shit about Mississippi. This for some reason launched me into a (I am on the 3rd bottle of wine now) history rant. WTF? I know, not me. I tell him how great Natchez is after he bashed it. (truthfully I wouldn't live there lol) I am lecturing him on antebellum homes in great detail. Ex. "Did you not visit Longwood? It is tragically majestic. Seeing the inside of this beautiful, massive, unfinished house just breaks your heart. I am quoting off other names of homes (I don't even know how or why I know this shit. I could have been making it up)" And then I also let him know he obviously did not go to Fat Mamas and have tamales and margaritas because that alone made that town worthy. Then I move on to Vicksburg and the delta and the blues. I am announcing all kinds of random shit like the fact that MS is the number one exporter of catfish in the world. I should have probably also let him know Major Dad was from there. I hate when I leave out good stuff.

Then I finally get over this. Turns out he is from Wakulla Springs. Me (being a well mannered girl..haha) responds, "I was just reading about the springs and really want to go there." He announces it is a dump and this launches me into another rant about how wonderful it is (I HAVE NEVER BEEN THERE AND I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS EXCEPT WHAT GOOGLE PROVIDED) I tell him he is wrong the oldest prehistoric mammal is there and can be seen on a clear day and I really hope they get the money to restore those old boats from Tampa (he doesn't even know what I am talking about and really neither do I, but I don't stop). And it is so sad that they closed the Cherokee sinkhole. Everyone at the table turns on me. I had to jump ship and go back to my original chair.

Dimwit has since been taken home by Jim Carrey's Mask character inspired hair. Maybe his name was Andrew. I think I will just keep referring to him as hair for the point of the story. He is macking on my friend Nicole. I am bored and Whataburger is across the street. So I start using my phone as a communication device. I type "Are we getting out of here" and hand her my phone. I guess it would have made too much sense to just text her. She nods yes. I type "Is he coming with us" she nods no. (THANK GOD) I don't like being around ugly people with crazy hair. I type "follow my lead" I walk to the bar and get togo cups and we waltzed right out of the bar with out wine. (I love breaking rules)

I am in Whataburger and drunk. I order. I get a sprite. I am talking shit with the people in there and lecturing them on Karma when my mother fucking styrofoam cup breaks and I dump Sprite (thankfully a clear liquid) all over my beautiful shiny skirt. I don't know how or why I was talking to those jackasses. I act like it doesn't happen while they laugh at my karma out loud. I tell the lady at the counter they need better cups and there has been a malfunction and I need a new one stat. I get diet coke this time. I demand ketchup. I love their car friendly ketchup. We continue to drink our wine and eat french fries. I document this with my phone. We drive home. Fear not, the fun does not end here.

We stop in a store (that was so not on the way home) and buy cigarettes. Bad plan. I don't even smoke. And I also pick up some white cheddar popcorn and jalapeno Cheetos (all of which I discovered this morning) We get back to my house and we change and open bottle 4 and head to the pool at 3ish? I proceed to give my whole life history. I don't know how I had this much energy. Finally it is cold. We break a wine glass. I toss it in the trash. (FYI I am down to 2 wine glasses and my birthday is nearing if anyone needs an idea. I do not like stemless ones) and then I pass out and sleep like a champ while the tv rambles on with Michael Jackson videos. Thursday truly lived up to its full potential.

Celebrity death

Yesterday God cashed a Publisher's Clearinghouse check, stole Charlie's Angel, and now he is doing the thriller. I am sure they are passing around some Dom Perignon up there.

I would write more, but MTV is actually playing videos so I have to get back to that. It is sad when it takes Michael Jackson dying for Music TeleVision to play music videos. What kind of world are we living in?