Hamptons - 2, Jones - 0

I am still recovering from this weekend. Thanks to DM and co. I was more drunk than I have been in quite sometimes. My hangover from Saturday is just now going away. Why did I make this second cameo out East this weekend? Two words: Beer. Olympics.

Or as the folks who made the sign like to say: Beer Olimpics.

Special Olimpics indeed.

And while I didn't really partake in too much of the days events besides the occasional round of flip cup and a the world's greatest beer soaked dance party, there were some memorable moments...that were told to me on Sunday. For example, DM's boyfriend wore a ref's jersey (in which he bore a starling resemblance to the late, great lead singer of Queen) and painted on what could be called a Hitler mustache. He is now known as Adolf Mercury. Amazing.

There were tricycles. And beer. And pinatas. Do the math. That's right, it equals awesome.

Slip 'N Slides and nudity and a moose hat all got involved somehow. This is where it gets blurry and I think I took a nap wearing nothing but a bikini. I felt that free. So free that when I did get dressed, I had my bra hanging out, wait how does Lionel say, oh yea, all night long.

Then my liver said FUCK YOU! and that's where it ends. I got nothing. So if you saw a girl running around The Drift on Saturday with her boobs hanging out like a drunk disaster, that was moi, in all of my shitfaced glory.

Until next summer, Hamptons, just you wait. I will win one of these days. I swear it.

Guess Who's Coming to Drinking?

Oh yes kiddies, it's that time of year again. Jonesy v. the Hamptons. Place your bets now. Here are some things to loook forward to...

This weekend is intended to be a shitshow of mass proportions. Similar to that of this girl's Awesomefest series. Some of you know about last year's magnificent trip out east. This year, I have been promised an even broader cast of characters includding Penny and pretty much everyone listed in her cast of characters. I have been told there will be drinking in mass quantities, including my introduction to the Stoli-bomb. Let's all pray I don't embarass myself while trying to pole-dance on a giant pink coulumn inside the Drift (which is actually Guide-hotspot, my hell, Neptunes during the day).

I will be venturing on the beach for the first time since last August, my pale skin begging for sun exposure. Kids, I'm so white, I glow. My sister compared my leg to my neice's (FYI-she has never seen direct sun) and the color was pretty much the same.

I am going happily, as this week has been very tough work-wise. Not only did my boss come back from his week off in order to give me tons of stuff to do, but I am also praying for a promotion to a position that opened up last week. I also have something else in the works (which will come to a close this Friday, just in time for my weekend escape) that will hopefully work out very soon!

So again, place your bets now kids, who will triumph? Will I take on the Hamtpons in pro-form without any embarassing moments that involve vomit/pee or spilling liquid of any kind? Will I avoid taking photos that make me look like I have 8 chins and 6 months prego? Or will The Hamptons beat my ass into submission, making me cry "UNCLE!" while I dance violently to quality tunes at 4 am?

I'll give you a hint. The Hamptons always wins.

Obligatory Fleet Week Post

Since the inception of this blog (2 years ago), I have made an effort to communicate to you, my loyal readers (all 5 of you), all of the fun-goings on in New York City (all of the things that involve me, booze, television and being poor).

Every year, I have been outspoken in my support of Fleet Week (AKA Hot Sailor Weekend). Well, I have officially changed my mind (I'm a flip-flopper). This year, I will not be spending Memorial Day Weekend in Manhattan (which is dead this weekend anyway) but rather, in an interesting twist, will be trekking (taking the Metro-North 30 minites) to my home town in Westchester for several celebrations (drunk-fests).

Why? You may ask, have I had such a change of heart (coal)? This year, I have noticed that while I am maturing (getting older) the sailors are seemingly less mature (seriously, they look 12 years old) and are not necessarily what I find attractive (FUGLY!).

So dear, readers (reader), there will be no posts about canooodling (Making out) with any of our US Naval Officers (unless somehow I eat a naval orange or randomly meet Phil Stacey) this weekend. In short, no delectable details from my Fleet Week celebration will be posted herewith (In short, I think I'm getting to old to hit on vulnerable 19-year-olds who are wearing white pants).

You may be saying, "Jonesy, you've explained what we (I) won't get. We (I) want to know what we WILL get." Dear friends (friend), you will most likely hear wonderful tales (foggy recollections) of a girl experiencing the verge of summer with some of her nearest (I'm only saying this because you are the ones who read this) and most dear friends and frolicking (eating and drinking) through the countryside (the yard at Spanish's parent's house).

So I bid you adieu for the long weekend (mini-vacay!) and in the words of that sage (hobag) Britney Spears, Godspeed (peace out mofos).