okay, so, last weekend my besty, heater shows up at my house with this crazed look in her eyes
"we must go out and drink alcohol now please!"
this is a fairly common occurence druing the winter months in CT. you go stir crazy. it's too cold to leave the house so you stay inside for a few weeks and then all of a sudden something snaps in you and you stop giving a shit how cold it is, because you just have to get out there in the world and do something, which in CT during the winter, means drinking alcohol, because there's nothing else to do. i'm not even kidding you. it's like a bad horror movie.
so of course i agree to go out with heater, partly cause i love the bitch, and partly cause i can tell i'm on the verge of cabin fever myself. so we decide to do the unthinkable, something neither of us has done in years, something so desperately dangerous that to do so under normal circumstances would be foolish. we go to a keg party. in northford.
don't ask me where the fuck northford is. don't ask heater either, even though she drove us there. as far as i could tell we just ended up in front of this dude's house with heater's surrogate cousin nicky bristol.
the guy whose party this is, he's old. also, he's rich and so full of shit and coke that it's literally painful to listen to him speak. all he says is, "listen, listen, ok right, listen, this one time, listen, listen, ok, listen." and after about ten minutes of this we're like "WE'RE LISTENING! FUCKING SAY SOMETHING BESIDES 'LISTEN'!" so heater and i fake like we have to pee and run as far away from this guy as possible, which is when i lay eyes on him.
my dream boy.
i mean, literally, he is my dream boy because i dream about him every night.
and during the day, i daydream about him.
in short, he is the love of my life
EDWARD CULLEN!!!!!!!
yes, i know it's hard to believe that edward would be at a keg party, but i swear to you it was him. i could tell by his dreamy eyes and his bouffant hair-do. all i could think is i have to talk to him. so i fixed him with my infamous come-hither stare and of course, he came hither (they always do).
at first the conversation seemed to confirm my theory that he was in fact, edward cullen. he told me that he's a male nurse (edward would totally be a male nurse if he wasn't too busy stalking inncoent teenage girls) and that he played the piano. i was like omg! i must be dreaming! but then i asked him why he became a male nurse, and he said "well, i used to be a model. i mean, obviously right? look at me, i'm gorgeous. but then i decided that helping people is totally more important than being famous." and that's when i realized that he wasn't edward cullen. he was, in fact, a much bigger and better celebrity, the one and only derek zoolander. only he was disguised as edward cullen.
i know it, right? can you believe my luck?
as edlander is regalling me with semi-retarded, egotistical tales of his modeling days, heater jumps in and, being the lovably oberbearing bitch that she is, asks the question that's been on everyone's mind since edlander first proclaimed (rather loudly, i might add) that he was a male nurse.
"dude, are you gay?"
and at that point, my dream boy blurted out the most fantastical series of words i have ever heard spoken by antoher human.
"no, that would be a waste of my HUGE DICK" (yes, he really did say that)
over the course of the night he said many memorable things, such as
"what is up with you walking away from me to go to the bathroom. i've never hit on a girl and had her not be totally psyched about it. i have way too much pride to go chasing you around this party all night"
and also, when a drunkenly chivalrous nicky bristol decided to call him on the fact that he was being a self-absorbed waste of oxygen,
"why does this always happen to me. it must be because i'm so good looking"
at that point i took pity on the poor sould and gave him my phone number as like, a consolation prize for being the worlds biggest douchebag. also, because he sucks so bad it's funny, and i really wouldn't mind being seen in public with him. alas, he never called me. i'm crossing my fingers that i will run into him again, preferably when i'm drunk enough to not take him seriously, but until then i guess i'll just have to settle for getting hit on by normal boys.
love always
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