Changing Directions...

I feel somewhat retarded writing this post right now considering I am already in a hungover food coma at 11am on Sunday morning feeling like a FF (fat fuck), chewing my Advil (can't swallow) in a purple (think Barney) sweat pant getup with eyeliner (Chanel) still on my face watching Lifetime (Bond of Silence).  I'm pretty sure I'm still drunk and most of what I am writing will not make sense, so I'm apologizing in advance. 

I decided at dinner last night that my blog will not revolve solely around food.  Although food is a LARGE (similar to my body right now) part of my life, no one wants to read about how good guacamole is at some Mexican restaurant in Soho- let's be honest.  Now allow me to recap this weekend's highlights:

1. Bier Haus in Midtown East is super fun for happy hour and has hot guys.  BAM.  Although I am 99.9% sure that these hot guys do NOT dig two blondes each shoving face with a liter of beer and a soft pretzel the size of our heads with bier cheese spread.  This also means they definitely do NOT dig two incoherent blondes continuing to shove face with potato pancakes and a bratwurst and pepper sandwich (the live German band just got us in the mood).  Just a guess, but hey, girls gotta eat.

2. Papatzul in Soho tried to kill 2 out of my 6 friends at dinner on Saturday night.  True story.  There was broken glass in Danee's margarita and Rosie had bad fish tacos. There were maybe two small pieces of fish with some type of cole slaw on top--interesting little combo. Maybe I'd skip this one...

glass or no glass, booze is booze

3. Direct quote from Rosie: "If I lost my arm, I'd be fucking pissed."  Umm....DUH.  Now the real questions is which arm would you prefer to lose?  If you're right-handed and that was chopped off, you'd pretty much be a waste of life; BUT if you lost your left arm, no one would be able to put a ring on it.  My priorities are steering me towards the right...

Something seems FISHY

4. The Soho Grand Hotel reminds me of the Clue board game.  I was waiting for Miss Scarlet to kill me with the candlestick in the study, but instead it was the waitress with the vodka and red bull. 

5. The west side of Manhattan does not sell Cadbury cream eggs. Simple fact. I mean it is EASTER, people. What is the problem? I just walked from my apartment in the West Village to the Lower East Side (while listening to Bette Midler's hit song "The Wind Beneath My Wings" for moral support)stopping at six different Duane Reades' searching for God's gift to the Catholic race. And where do I finally hit the jackpot? In a JEWISH deli! Really?  Hey, I'm not complaining- a Cadbury cream egg is a Cadbury cream egg. 

VICTORY!

6. This is what Carly did this weekend straight from gchat:

Carly:  i ate sushi fri night..woke up ate peanut butter pancakes (BANGIN) umm went to sugarhouse casino on a beautiful day and lost 25 geez 

Carly: and by geez i mean dollarszzz 

Carly: i tried to comment on your blog, but it wont let me

Carly: i think i have to become a follower

Carly: which i will

Carly: dont u worry

Carly: and then i put my two cents in