Slutfest 2000 Reunion (minus the slut ... and add 12 years)

So last weekend we had a Girls Weekend in Nashville. And I wrote a poem about it. Because that is just what I do.

There once was a girl named Kelly

Who married a guy Brad

One day Brad got transferred

And Kelly was very sad :(

Good Bye, East Cobb they said

And hello, Tennessee

They found a town called La Vergne

A new home for Brad, Kelly, and Charlie!

Well a few months they went by

And Kelly missed her gals

So it was time to plan a Girls Trip

For Kelly and seven pals!

From Atlanta we were coming

From Lexington and Denver, too

And when Courtney offered to drive

It was off to Nashville with the crew!

Just four girls in a Lexus

And so our journey begins

With three bottles of champagne

For Erin, Caroline ... and Megan

Near death moment.

 The car ride was four hours

After Chick-fil-a from the start

We talked and laughed and sang

Except when Megan had to fart

We arrived in La Vergne a bit early

So we decided to buy some booze

Instead we found THIS delicacy

At the local Kangaroo :)

Beef Jerky/Cheese Log COMBO PACK. Can't find that shit in Atlanta.

Well Kelly came home with Charlie

(the cutest kid of life)

And welcomed us to La Vergne

And her brand new Tennessee life!

I SAID he was the cutest kid of life.

Now Brad was such a good husband

Because in the fridge we found

10 bottles of wine for us!

So long as we promised not to make a sound.

CLEARLY that was a promise

We made a bit too soon

Because once Cameran arrived

We turned Casa Blanchard into a saloon!

Bar Blanchard

After inhaling pizza and dip

And settling in for the night

We noticed the bathroom door -

Closed without the light ...

Now WHO could be in there?

We all wondered with a smile

Why it was Megan taking a poop

... and chatting with Brad for a while.

So seven bottles later

And happy to be reunited with Kell

We gossiped til after 1 AM

(Now did I tell you about the email?)

Before we knew it tomorrow came

And it was time to hit the city

So we snapped a couple pics

And headed off to get shitty!

Pre-Shitty Picture

 

Nash-Vegas we have arrived!

And Sarah showed up too!

Just in time for cheese dip and Margaritas

ALWAYS a must to-do.

(oops, uploaded the wrong picture)

THERE we go.

We checked into the penthouse

(and by penthouse I mean room)

It was time to go exploring

To Music City, I presume!

Now Nashville in itself

Is a whole new world to see

Boots and country and rednecks

We pointed and laughed with glee :)

When in Rome ...

The day went by so quickly

And it was nearly dinner time

So we headed back to Hampton

And found Mary had arrived!

Now all 8 of us were here

For our mini PD(X)

It's Marist reunion time!

Grab your cowboy boots and a dress!

That's us.

Off to Puckett's we went

By cab or perhaps on foot

And Amy met us at dinner

For yummy southern food to boot!

WALK .5 miles??? Hell.No.

Then we hit the bars

And found live music to dance

Until we found a DILF ...

And we dipped at our first chance

Yes, that shirt says DILF. As in Dad I'd Like to Fuck.

Now the NEXT bar was the best

A country bar called The Stage

We even got ID-ed!

You know, just in case we were underage

We be country.

Upon entering we discovered

There was a celebrity in our midst!

And a movie they were filming ...

Whatever. I'll have a lemon drop with a twist.

Well Billy Zane took the stage

And the music went round and round

And if by chance you're wondering

He's going to paint this whitewashed town.

So 12 renditions later

Of burning that goddamn town

We headed off to Tootsies

Far FAR away from that sound.

Um, us and shit-ton of outsiders.

For all of our friends (and fans)

We "checked in" to 17 places

From La Vernge to Downtown Nashville

Now everyone knows our faces :)

We hopped from bar to bar

Perhaps getting a wee bit drunker

Til we came across a quiet joint

That we could clearly take over

It was time to break out the line dancing

But not without a surprise ...

Because when Cameran went to the bar

She was met with a Smirnoff Ice!

"ON YOUR KNEES, BITCH"

Read the cocktail napkin

So what's a girl to do?

She chugged it like a champion!

What happens when you ice someone at 9AM ... Revenge.

Well our numbers started dwindling

As we neared 2 AM

Someone had a date with a pump

So we started to bring it in.

One last picture you ask?

Okay, well why not.

We all might be THIRTY

But we're still effing hot ;)

30!!! ... well, Cameran's still hanging on to 20 ... and Erin thinks she's 33 ... but you get the picture.

What a perfect end

To such a perfect night

The eight of us together

Still cause quite a sight

Friendships like ours don't end

They continue to get stronger

After nearly twenty years

We'll make it four times longer.

So once again I end

To friends that will last a lifetime -

Megan, Erin, Mary, Sarah

Cameran, Courtney, Kelly,

and Caroline

PS: Don't fuck with Megan.

Did I mention I love my friends?

Doctor Who (and the Boos too)

I sent Brett this (for lack of a better word) GROSS article last week about some guy eating another guys face off in Miami. It was rather disturbing, and made me quite concerned about the future of the world as we know it. Our gchat conversation is as follows:

Brett: This was the talk of the office last week.

Caroline: Humanity at it's finest.

B: That's right. It's the beginning of the zombie apocalypse!!!!!

C: Doctor Who would be disappointed.

B: He would be. He would also show up for something like that though.

C: And STOP it.

B: That's right, so THAT part would be cool.

C: Then we would get to fly around in the TARDIS because WE told him about it.

B: I could show off my TARDIS phone cover! ... I wonder if he gives autographs ... He is pretty well known throughout space and time and he gets recognized, but that's something we have never seen.

C: You can't ask him for his autograph. Not if we want to be companions!

B: True. That's amateur.

C: Totally.

B: I don't know what I was thinking. I almost ruined it for us.

C: TARDIS HERE WE COME!!!

B: We're the coolest people in the world.

C: Um, in the whole space and time UNIVERSE. 

 

Disclaimer: If you don't watch Doctor Who, he is a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey who flies around in a blue police-box-phone-booth called the TARDIS. He can travel anywhere in space and time and he saves the world on an episodic basis. Keep up, morons.

And here's my kickass husband with his kickass TARDIS phone cover from his kickass wife:

Best.Birthday.Present.Ever.

Bang Bang

Let me preface this by saying that other than dinky little orange plastic water guns - I HAVE NEVER SHOT A GUN.

That being said, Brett and I went shooting last weekend. Our friends Matt and Jillian (who both have their carry permits) belong to a gun club, and they offered to host Let's Watch Caroline Shoot the Ceiling 2012. So, I got all dolled up in a jean skirt and cowboy boots (what else would you wear to play with guns??), and we met them at Sharp Shooters. Then I was forced to wear giant ear phones and safety goggles. No one mentioned there was a dress code.

Us in our rental gear. Matt and Jillian brought their own custom made headphones. They were monogrammed. Snobs.

So we're all suited up, and Matt pulls out a small arsenal of no less than 74 handguns - loads one - and hands it to me. I mean, this doesn't look difficult. You point, you shoot, you hit the Zombie-Brandishing-a-Machete target, you congratulate yourself on a job well done, and you tell your friends what a badass you are. Right?

Fuck no.

Every time I pulled the trigger I closed my eyes. IT IS EFFING LOUD. I suppose I understand the headphones now. And when I opened my eyes I saw a huge hole in the zombie target! Not really. Matt told me I hit the ceiling. I hit the ceiling a lot. In my defense, the target was 10 WHOLE FEET away. Way too far away for a novice like myself. YOU try hitting the ceiling six times in a row! I was the only one who did that. So that in itself is a success, and I rule at guns.

Now my dear sweet HUSBAND on the other hand was too busy showing off to teach me how to shoot correctly.

Brett Eastwood

He's nonchalantly nailing bulls-eye targets from 25 feet away. He can be a real jerk sometimes. At one point, Brett pulled himself away from his "Do You Feel Lucky, Punk" montage and came over to watch me. After I fired off an entire round from 5 FEET AWAY, and impressively hit the ceiling EVERY SINGLE TIME, he says: "Exactly WHAT are you aiming at?" Seriously? What the hell do you think I'm aiming at? The target, motherfucker. So then he asks me if I'm lining up the three dots. Three dots?

To make a long story short, my sneaky husband and two ex-friends all ganged up on me, and ON PURPOSE did not tell me that you had to line up these "three dots" in the sight thingy on the gun ... then line that up with the target ... then open your eyes ... then pull the trigger. I'm totally sure that if I had known that, I would have nailed the target with just as much finesse as I nailed the ceiling.

Unfortunately, by that point my face was cramping up from trying to close one eye. So I managed to pull the trigger once more, keep my eye open, and hit some part of the target. What part, I have no idea. But it wasn't the ceiling. Or the air. So I figure I did okay.

J-Poop & I being way more badass than Charlie's Angels

Then we invited Matt, Jillian, and their two kids over for dinner. Then Wyatt (age less-than-2) fell down the hill in our backyard. And then Jillian pulled out her gun and shot me.

Just kidding.