Sunday, September 11, 2005

Dankakorn and Nikki Hilton















Am hungover. Last night was cwaaaazy. The chilli-off was a huge success, and no one could top our regurgitating papier mache unicorn creature. We couldn't come up with a name for her though. I did insist that it be a female however. No man would have such an anal chilli-shooting capacity. And without complaint! She should be canonized or some such shit. I think her name shall be "Freeeetoleigh." Like most Texans she loves da fritos. Maybe she could be "unicorny," because of her proclivity for corn chips and also as a shout-out to my artcrush, "corny." Swoon.

Afterwards, Arturo Palacios force-fed me
"Irish car bombs" and honestly, I think I'm pissing Guinness and Bailey's Irish cream today.
Its a lovely concoction really. Call me if you want a quick cocktail.

Being bloated and crampy makes me feel a little like this guy. Oblivious to his own grotesque-itude. God he makes me sick.




















***The above picture is of a similarly drunken night at Skowtown. Sarah and I were the Hilton sisters. We look pretty similar right? Except she is the really, really, really ridiculously GOOD-looking one. I secretly wish she would turn into that sunscreen guy. Gawd, he makes me SICK.
We spilled drinks on people all night, it was great. Sarah had a fake chihahua in her purse, but I couldn't find one so I carried around a stuffed cockroach I bought at the thrift.

3 comments:

Minimonk said...

Have to admit your blog makes me laugh out loud (especially the image of your stuffed cockroach)! Hey, you don't have the phone numbers of your male models do you?
Well things are a little slow here in the East...as always, your greatest fan (though not quite as "earthy" as you apparently)

b said...

Paris and Nikki? "That's hot."

Saturday night was crazy huh? mine too. I booted out the car window while ordering empanadas at taco bell at 3 in the morning. And then spent my entire Sunday recovering...by watching the wife swap marathon on the family channel. I have no brain cells.

Ali Fitzgerald said...

Empanada-linked booting? Loverly. You are a class act Babs. I think all my brain cells were sacrificed to my first beer-bong. If you had some left over after college than you fared better than me.