Some more advice from Tabby:
When you consume beer, wine, and a double digit number of shooters, you will very likely get drunk. Extremely drunk. This may be particularly true if you are a relatively small woman who is somewhat rusty on the binge drinking front.
If the above happens to you, I do not recommend phoning up local celebrities at 1am, waking them up, and keeping them on the phone for 30 minutes trying to get them to come out and play with you and your friends.
If you do happen to phone them up in the middle of the night, chat their ear off, and make a total ass of yourself, it is good form to call back and apologize the next day. It is also polite to assure them that you will never bother them again. This sort of thing might mean the difference between having a restraining order issued against you and/or just feeling like a bit of a titwad for a few days.
I hope you will take this advice to heart, and save yourself some potential future embarrassment.
xot
posted by telltale tabby @ 3:21 PM
5 Comments:
Oh God, Tabby... What have you done?
I'll definitely be tuning in today at noon just to see what sort of hidden messages come through about my lunatical best friend.
...and you are supposed to be the sane and responsible one...
I think you know exactly what I did Pesto. And, though it may be somewhat difficult to recover socially from what has happened, I’ve definitely done something more embarrassing in my life (though no example readily springs to mind). The poor recipient of this late night badgery was extremely kind and gracious about it all. Still, a part of me hopes I will never have to see him again.
call my ass would'ya,
T
The moral of the story is that a Mojo that brings pleasure will inevitably bring shame. Keep that thing on a leash, Girl!
As for me, hysteria and celerity have overtaken my life. I drove like a maniac through miles and miles of dirt roads (in PJ Pasta’s car, nonetheless) to get myself and others home from the cottage on Sunday night only to be bombarded by messages from PJ Pasta and MJ Madcat demanding to be picked up at PET airport on Monday eve, a task that a vacationing Prosciutto could very well have done, but had no interest in doing since he absolutely needed to stay at the cottage an extra 4 hours. So I rushed off after work, picked up a brave and altruistic CG-Cat and drove away from the setting sun down a road that has become more of a home to me these days than any other. We made it successfully through the poorly-marked and meandering roads of that God forsaken airport only to find a weary but unsurprisingly corybantic suntanned duo awaiting pickup. You can then imagine what the ride home was like… PJ Pasta Pazoo hadn’t eaten in more than 2 hours and his overactive metabolism was screaming for salvation from imminent self-devouring. MJ Madcat Malone was so exhausted but realized that she would have to feed Pasta Pazoo upon arrival. And so, the madness began as they both wanted to relay stories from their trip simultaneously while also attempting reconcile the post-vacation depression that was setting in. GC-Cat was a real trooper. She dealt with the mania and the loudness like a champ. They got back to a starving and emaciated (if you can even believe it) Quaid Douglas and an overgrown, weed-infested garden, at which point Madcat Malone, despite exhaustion, began pulling human-sized weed trees out by the roots. That was when we decided to make our escape and go feed ourselves just in time to avoid either the weed-whacker or the vacation video montage. So CG-Cat and I gorged ourselves on the Chicken and Rib combo platter at our friendly neighbourhood box-store chainstaurant. And that was almost the end of our night of insanity…
who is the celeb??
rc
Dear Pesto,
That sounds like a whirlwind. A fun one though.
Dear rc,
In order to protect his identity (and to prevent myself any further humiliation), I can not reveal the name of the celeb.
love you both,
T
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