My semi-charmed life
or
How it came to be that Cyril Neville helped me put my pants on
Last night was the big Louisiana crawfish fest here in town.
6 minutes of dancing? $80. For me. I don't know why I didn't start doing this sooner.
So, after we were done, I went back into our tent where I found Cyril Neville (aka, the Neville brother without the big mole above his eye) and his band, smoking a joint. Well, the band was smoking. Cyril? Sitting on the ground next to my stuff.
"Hey guys. Sorry. Just have to throw on some clothes. Don't worry. Its just boobies. Ya'll ok with that, right?"
"yeah! no problem" everyone responded.
So I throw my white wifebeater on and decide to just throw jeans over my fishnets. I put one leg in the jeans and do the little leg shake thing you do when pulling your pants up.
Cyril Neville grabs my pant leg and says "here, let me help you" and proceeds to pull my pant leg up slowly. He did the same with the 2nd leg. I was too shocked to say anything. I mean, how do you tell a Neville Brother "uh...the hell?". I told him thanks and then slipped on my sneakers.
"You're not leavin, are you?" one of his band mates asked. I told him I was going to go out and grab a drink.
"Well, come back soon. REAL soon". He responded.
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Today, volivershagnasty, and his friends Dwight, Kim and Brian and I went to the horse races. Manor Downs. As I stated in my last entry, I am no horse race neophite. But volivershagnasty knows his way around a racing form too so it looked to be a good day.
Well, I wont say how everyone did but I will say that everyone pretty much lost their shirts except one person in our group who shall remain nameless.
or
How it came to be that Cyril Neville helped me put my pants on
Last night was the big Louisiana crawfish fest here in town.
6 minutes of dancing? $80. For me. I don't know why I didn't start doing this sooner.
So, after we were done, I went back into our tent where I found Cyril Neville (aka, the Neville brother without the big mole above his eye) and his band, smoking a joint. Well, the band was smoking. Cyril? Sitting on the ground next to my stuff.
"Hey guys. Sorry. Just have to throw on some clothes. Don't worry. Its just boobies. Ya'll ok with that, right?"
"yeah! no problem" everyone responded.
So I throw my white wifebeater on and decide to just throw jeans over my fishnets. I put one leg in the jeans and do the little leg shake thing you do when pulling your pants up.
Cyril Neville grabs my pant leg and says "here, let me help you" and proceeds to pull my pant leg up slowly. He did the same with the 2nd leg. I was too shocked to say anything. I mean, how do you tell a Neville Brother "uh...the hell?". I told him thanks and then slipped on my sneakers.
"You're not leavin, are you?" one of his band mates asked. I told him I was going to go out and grab a drink.
"Well, come back soon. REAL soon". He responded.
---------
Today, volivershagnasty, and his friends Dwight, Kim and Brian and I went to the horse races. Manor Downs. As I stated in my last entry, I am no horse race neophite. But volivershagnasty knows his way around a racing form too so it looked to be a good day.
Well, I wont say how everyone did but I will say that everyone pretty much lost their shirts except one person in our group who shall remain nameless.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
either way...you = whore!