Oh Yeah?

...everywhere?

The Wedding: Part II

I SAID COPS.

As I was running towards Gia's back fence all I could think was one thing: There is no way. in hell. that I can hop this fence.
Shit dude, I should have jumped hurdles in track. Slap a varsity jacket on this mother fucker, because I scaled that fence with ease. All of the party guests 5 at a time hurdled the fence in desperation to get away from the four pigs behind us yelling "DON'T RUN!" Running through the neighbor's backyards was like running through a civil war battle field. I saw the bride, face planted into a shrubbery, some dude I didn't even know trying to help her get up and keep running. I came across another fence that had been trampled into the dirt; and entire white picket fence destroyed by a stampede of underage drinkers. Take that, American Dream.

People started to disperse and I started to realize I was seriously on my own. It was clear that the pigs had called for back up, because I could see search lights of other cop cars driving up and down the streets. I was barefoot, phoneless, and still in my junior prom dress; I needed somewhere to hide.
I wedged myself between a fence and a row of bushes. I got down on the ground, pressing my chest into the dirt, hoping it would keep my heart from pounding right out of my chest. I rubbed dirt on my face to try and "camouflage." ...In retrospect, that was probably the Bacardi Razz's idea.
I watched three cop cars drive by my hiding spot. They hadn't seen me, but each car that drove by scared the hell out of me. I needed to get the fuck out of there, but my car was still at Gia's and there was no way in hell I was going to go back there and give myself up. Suddenly, a white VW Beetle drove up to my hiding spot and parked. The window rolled down and I heard a familiar voice yell
"WHITNEY, I SEE YOU, GET IN THE FREAKING CAR YOU IDIOT."
Kelly. Davis.

If there was one person in this world who didn't like me, it'd be Kelly Davis. I mean... she has every reason not to like me. A summer beforehand I had been hooking up with this dude who was her boyfriend... If it means anything,I didn't know that they were dating at the time, but also... when I found out, I still didn't give a shit. When homegirl said that she was going to key my car because of it, I found a copy of her eating a sandwich, made 400 copies of it, and threw it all over the front lawn of my high school. You don't fuck with Whitney St. Paul.

I froze. Is this a joke? Am I dreaming? Is Kelly Davis really offering me a ride out of this mess I've gotten myself into? Before I could think of anything else, Kelly screamed "MOVE IT, HOOKER, IT'S NOW OR NEVER."
Kelly Davis, you are my savior.

I hopped into her front seat and she sighed, seeing that I was covered in dirt.
"First of all, I'd like to say that you are a freaking hot mess. Second of all, I would like to mention that you've clearly gotten fatter since you wore that dress to prom, cuz it looked better then. Lastly I'd like to say that I knew this party was gonna get busted, but when I saw you running around like Rambo in my backyard, I figured I'd help. Think of it as charity."
"Thank you, Kelly. You seriously saved me."
"Well whatever, I was on my way to 7-11 anyway. I'll drop you off there."
"Can I at least get a ride to my house?"
"Ew, like I said, CHARITY. Take what you can get. I'll buy you a slurpee. Or maybe some baby wipes. You look like a train wreck."

We rolled up to 7-11 where we ran into some kids on the football team that I knew. What the hell is it with football kids hanging out in 7-11 parking lots? I never understood it. Dudes will literally chill there from 11pm to 5am. Just hanging. Either way, with little convincing, I managed to get one of them to drop me off in front of my house. My face hit the pillow at 4am.

I rolled over and stared at the clock. 1:06pm. Without really thinking, I got into the shower and stood under the hot water, letting the steam gather around my ears, helping me remember the events that took place the night before. "I wonder what happened with Gia... I don't think she wound up running...," I thought to myself as I ran down the stairs for lunch/breakfast.
When I turned the corner into my kitchen, I froze. My dad was sitting at the table reading the newspaper, and the front page was facing me, with a huge picture of Gia's house in the dead center. The headline read "TEEN KEGGER BUSTED, FAMILY ARRESTED."
"Oh my god..." I muttered aloud.
My dad put the news paper down on the table.
"Fun night, Whit?"

Audaces fortuna iuvat,
-Whit

a text from last night

"but for the record, the correct grammatical phrasing would be "you're drunk." lemme know when you wanna bone! hopefully my tits are worth it. I mean, let's face it, they are. k talk to you soon! ps, literally no sarcasm intended :) :)!!!!"


....I'm never getting ass again.
On to the next one.

Audaces fortuna iuvat,
-Whit

Anonymity in Action likes when your hands fall off so you can never use the internet again.

So there's this girl that I'm friends with on the Facebook machine. She kind of has this thing where she tells everyone every little thing about her personality so that she can never tell anyone anything interesting about herself without them already knowing.

....SEE?

LOOK HOW FUCKING INTERESTING I AM EVERYONE!

--AIA

o.0

My favorite quote that comes from all of this, "Gangs are just posers looking for attention."

--UM, EXCUSE ME SIR...YEAH, YOU WITH THE FUCKING STUFFED TAIL.

Seriously, what is the world coming to? All I kept thinking about was the episode of South Park where the goth kids are upset that the most conformist kids are beginning to dress like them, calling themselves "Vamps".

Speaking of vamps, let's take a look at this fat piece of Twilight-loving shit.

Welcome to the World of The Plastic Beach

"My name is Whitney St. Paul. And I think I have a problem. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a people person...maybe it's because I'm a little more adventurous than the average person... maybe it's because I have great hair... but either way. Things happen to me. And because of these things, I have stories to tell. Too many, to be quite honest. It's about time I start sharing them.

The Wedding:

I pull up to Gia's house around 7pm. I know I'm already late, but hopefully the excitement of today will surpass my tardiness. I step out of my car and into the July heat. My junior prom dress sticks to me like glue, green and glittering in the sun. I walk up Gia's front porch and notice that some of her high school graduation decorations are still hanging on the rocking chairs. "We're gonna have to ditch those before Sarah gets here..." I think to myself. After all, we already had our high school graduation parties... What sort of decorations do you need for a mock wedding?

Bart and Sarah were our group couple. They started dating after they vomited on each other at a party... and for a while... that was as far as their intimacy went. Neither of them had ever been in a serious relationship. Sarah didn't communicate, and Bart was oblivious. As you can imagine, their relationship was awkward and far from perfect. So, during one of our last days of high school lunch, Gia started talking about how she wanted to have one last party before we all went away so that we had an excuse to wear our old prom dresses and get hammered. A perfect combination. Gia whipped around to face Bart and sarcastically screamed, "ASK SARAH TO MARRY YOU SO WE CAN HAVE A MOCK WEDDING!"

Bart was down. Gia was stoked. It was agreed that we wouldn't mention a word of it to Sarah. The rest of us thought it'd never happen.

The next thing I know, it's the end of July and I'm walking into Gia's front living room, and there are bacholorette party decorations hung every where.

"You're late, you bitch! Bart just proposed to Sarah in the middle of Food Town. Apparently, Sarah can't tell if he's serious or not, and hasn't spoken a word in over five minutes. Now pour Shawn another drink so he can prepare to strip! Did you bring Sarah's dress?"

"Yea, I have it." I hand Gia a bag with a white crumpled strapless dress that Sarah had worn under her graduation gown. I snuck it out of her house the last time I was there. Just call me 007.

"Whit-I don't know if I can do this." I meet Shawn's gaze and can see that he's halfway to drunk and terrified. He's been elected to be Sarah's stripper, but I doubt Shawn has ever danced in front of anyone or anything...maybe a computer monitor after he cracked some internet code or made out with his external hard-drive. I pour out two shots of Bacardi Razz, the ultimate drink of my graduating class, and down one simultaneously with Shawn. "You'll be fine, broseph." I pat him on the back and walk away.

Sarah arrives, speechless. Shawn strips (honestly, it was sort of hot... but...sort of weird). We all move into the backyard for Mad-Lib wedding vows ("You may now kiss the tampon..."). Someone has made a four tier cake, we watch the bride and groom dance, everything is going well. That is, until the groom leans over to Gia and whispers, "You know.... it's okay that this party sucks..."

Well. That was all Gia needed to hear. There were probably about 15 of our closest friends at the party. We had incredible amounts of alcohol and good music. But Bart was right. It was sort of lame. And Gia didn't plan this mock wedding to be lame.

"Whitney. Call everyone you know. I want this party to be balls to the walls ridiculous. Got it?"

At 9pm, I break out my LG flip phone and start texting people... At 10pm, there are 60 people in Gia's backyard, doing kegstands in business casual. This party is seriously taking off. It's gonna be a good night, tator.

Around 11, I walk out to Gia's front yard and pop a squat, Indian style in the middle of her dead end street. I take out of my phone to spit some game at the newest dude I've been hooking up with... he was supposed to come to the mock wedding as my date, but wound up having to ditch out due to family commitments...so you know...I'm calling to make sure that's what he's really doing. And to remind him that I'm tan, in a dress, and tipsy. That might change his mind on the whole "family commitments" thing. As I'm sitting in the road, I see an unfamiliar car rolling towards me. "Hold on one sec Joe...I'm gonna call you back in a minute..." As the car passes under the nearest street light I can make out the outline of red and blue lights strapped down to the top of the car. I slowly get up and make my way into the backyard, looking at the ground, and shuffling my feet faster and faster until I break out into a run...

cops... cops... cops... cops.... COPS!!!!!!!

to be continued.

Audaces fortuna iuvat,

-Whit

A Whole New World....

Please listen while this post goes on.

Hello AIA Readers, my pseudonym is Reese, obviously in keeping with the Spirit of AIA. I will be your guide to all things film and television related. Also probably will throw in some video game and music content because that is something else that I enjoy and I am extremely familiar with.

Let's start off with my new obsession: Weeds.

First off, I just need to get this off my chest....

GODDAMNTHATMARYLOUISEPARKERISHOT

Ok, now that that is over with, I absolutely love this show, fantastic characters put into sometimes outrageous situations. I will admit it is not my favorite show of all time (that will be for another post) but still better then most t.v. shows on today.

My favorite character is Andy, the brother-in-law. Since the father died he has become the male figure in the household. Which I believe he hit his peak when he talks to the youngest son (Shane) about masturbation. Here is an excerpt from that conversation.

"From there we move on to more lubricated flack-catchers - specificially, bananas. Step one: Peel the banana. Step two: Slip the peel over your Randy Johnson and start pitching. Now for extra credit, warm up the peel in the microwave. Not too hot! Serious yowza. Also, olive oil, moisturizer, honey, spit, butter, hair conditioner, and Vaseline can all be used for lube. In my opinion, the best lube... is lube. So save your allowance and invest in some soon. Alright, moving on - when you tug your Thomas on the toilet - ffft - shoot right into the bowl."

Yeah, that's probably one of the best monologues about masturbation ever.

There is one issue though with this show, it can get a tad bit racist. Especially with African-Americans. Again an excerpt from another conversation

"Conrad Shepard: You calling black people stupid?

Nancy Botwin: And lazy... and they also steal.

Heylia James: Yeah, but we sings and we dances real good."

It just seems a little too much, even though they were making fun of the stereotypes. I really don't like stereotypes. (Remember that because that will come in handy in the future.)

-Reese

What's the hardest thing about being you?

Just wait for the end.

The Adventures of Pat

First, our hero must procure his main ingredient. But why not tell everyone on the internet about it too? This shows that our hero is resourceful.

*In case you were wondering, the second comment is someone's "cool" mom!*

Unfortunately, Pat seems to have hit a snag here. He has acquired the substance, but has no means by which to use it. Disaster is afoot!

...or is it?

It has been a long journey, but our hero has once again vanquished his archenemies, sobriety and intelligence

...also the English language.

The shocking conclusion for our hero?

WIN

Finally, a man after my own heart.

I recently discovered a lovely site called "Dear Girls Above Me", and if you have read into my previous posts much, you know how I feel about noisy neighbors. His humor is excellent, brief, and to the point. Kudos sir, you have made it to the links.

The Farce is With You

Just when you thought it was safe....

....A FUCKING Kung Fu Bear

Just when you thought it was safe, the world became...

...............

.......softer

DAMN YOU TREE KNITTER!!!!!

An Open Call

I'm looking to re-energize this site by adding contributors. If you are interested, simply leave a comment, and an e-mail...I'll be in touch.

Coincidences: Awesome

Possibly the greatest combination of music and film ever.