This is blog of a woman who didn't know what she wanted and so chased after dreams and men in search of the answers...drunken hilarity ensued. Then one day she met a man who was everything she wanted, but he wasn't so sure. Then she did the unthinkable; after they broke up she gave him this blog address and she let him into her mind as well as her heart. Unbelievably, even after sorting through the sordid archives of failed relationships, one night stands and her lusty (and embarassing) pursuit to secure the heart of a certain young line cook, John somehow managed to fall in love with her too. Melina and John were married a little over six months after they started dating, running away to Las Vegas to seal the deal. You can imagine what the over/under bet was to see if they'd even make it a year!! Over a year later and they are still going strong...this blog has become their story. Need to tell me something? Email me at Melinalovesjohnny at gmail dot com
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Saturday, November 19, 2005
The Sharter- (When a Drunk Loves A Woman)
So I have a classic story for you...I will title it Sharter. Last night Chelle, T and I went to lady's night at the FQB. When we first got there he was making out all sloppy-like with some random girl...she disappeared and he turned his charm on Chelle. He begins the wooing process from across the bar by stating to us that he pays $2,000 a month to his ex wife for child support, that he's broke and that he gets henna tattoos all over him in the summer because he's too scared to get the real deal. We all we all have more than one tattoo and because he tells us that he resembles Thomas from Inked (Thomas from Inked is hawt...Drunk guy looks like Porkie Pig). So then Drunkie McDrunkerson stage whispers to his sister (of the heaving was OBSCENE), "Oh geez, I keep sharting..." Now because he's drunk, we ALL hear him, and we laugh...a lot.

Laughing at someone is apparently a signal for a drunk man to come over and talk to you. Well not me...Chelle. So he comes over and he tries to be suave and says to the two of us, "Why aren't any guys coming over here and hitting on the hot girls?" We reply that we are friends with everyone in the room and that's probably why...we do NOT deny our hotness. But he repeats himself I reply, "Maybe guys aren't hitting on Chelle because she's got the HIV..." but because of my stuffy nose it sounds kind of like HIP. He asks me to repeat myself but Chelle's scarlet face makes me realize that I probably shouldn't say my friend has the precursor to AIDS...T jumps in and says, "Michelle has a fake hip!" And from there we just discussed her fake hip for about twenty being titanium and all...when she has to have it serviced and how it's darn near unbreakable.

Drunkie, says, "Oh...I can't be dealing with that!" Which made me giggle because he has a kid, he's drunk and hanging out with his sister, he was just making out at the bar with a skank who has signed her name on his hand (but he didn't know what it was...I informed him that he made out with Kimmy. He said, "Oh you know her?" I replied, "No, but she signed her name on your hand dumbass.") he's broke and he's sharting up a storm!

Well then Drunkie puts his hand on Chelle's back and says, "I'm not touching you because I want to sleep with you. It's not a bad touch is it? I'm not touching you because I want to sleep with you, I just need to go to sleep." At this point,Chelle eases her back away from Drunkie's "bad touch" hand. I make some joke and we're all laughing and Drunkie looks me right in the eye and says, "You see that? You just made me throw up..." I didn't know what he was talking about but I'm assuming that he is truly one of the people who "Throws up a little in his mouth"...seeing that he didn't throw up on me I turned back to T and ignored him--leaving Chelle and her non-existent titanium hip to fend for themselves. Then Drunkie says, "Oh god I just sharted again!" and I yelled, "Go away you're gross...that's right, get away from me!" Chelle at one point said, "Stop sharting, we know that you can't afford a new pair of underwear!" But it really didn't matter because he didn't hear me...he was just moseying to the bathroom. Our story of Drunkie ends there because Sister of the Cleaviest Cleavage packed her drunk ass brother and took him home. Not a minute too of us was going to clock him.

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posted by Melina at 1:22 PM