The Hangover Diaries: Fleet Week, Flavor Ice, and Papa Smurf’s Revenge
I woke up today next to a tranny, went to brush my teeth, and realized my tongue was blue. At first I thought I was finally reaching my goal of literally transforming into Vanity Smurf (if Smurfs had dicks he would be the gang-bang champion of Smurf-ville) but then I realized that I drunk-bought seven boxes of Flavor Ice the other day at Walgreens and apparently drunk-ate all seven of them.
We started the night at The Ritz for $5 martinis. Club Promoter Nadia E, the “girl” who is in all my recent Hangover diaries photos had her first Thursday party, and I can honestly say that there was more than 10 people I would cock there. That is saying something. The music was awesome, the guys were hot, and there were fucking hamburger sliders. That’s all I’m saying. Our favorite bartender downstairs makes these insane drinks that I call Papa Smurf’s Revenge (Blue Moon and Blueberry Stoli. Also the reason I puked at work last week) so needless to say my ongoing bid to drink less did.not.happen.
Its Fleet Week here, so there were tons of hot Military guys all around. Every time I saw a hot guy I was secretly hoping he was a plainclothes military man sneaking off to the gay bar looking for a tranny good time. I kept finding random strands of Nadia’s immense acrylic hair in my mouth. We danced on the little stage, drank straight Patron, and made some new friends. What more could you ask for.
Then we proceeded to Industry where everyone was fucking fugs except a certain other club promoter who came up to me drunkenly and shoved my hand down his pants. Then he walked away. He’s super hot so I didn’t really mind but I was so faced at that point that I don’t even remember the specifics, such as circumference, volume, or mass. On the way home we ran into a homeless man with his balls out (more on this later. Have you ever seen a homeless person’s taint? I had to take a rape shower afterwards), got more shit-faced in my bath tub again, ate ourselves out of house and flavor-ice and Face-timed my sister who was also shit-faced with her best friend.
Proof positive that even though I was in an elevator building in lower Manhattan, and she was in a house with no Wifi off a dirt road, if you know how to Gloganvlog then you know how to fucking Gloganvlog. (For those of you who didn’t get the reference I just made up, Gloganvlogged means “Drunkdedded”.
Its only fucking Friday. Memorial weekend. If I live through this then I will know that not only is there a god, but he drinks as much as I do.








Trackbacks