See Jill. See Jill drink.

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St. Patrick’s Day is my friend Jill’s favorite day of the year. She loves it so much she’d take that day off of work – if she had a job. Luckily, her parents pay for her tuition and send her money so she can eat (occasionally), drink (regularly) and hook up (daily). Here is her St. Patrick’s Day 2010 story.

The world is a comedic playground when Jill is drinking.

Jill was awoken at 6:30 am on March 17, 2010 to the sound of her friend Cammy banging on her bedroom door. “Get up bitch. It’s time to get f*cked up,” Cammy screamed. Jill wiped the 4-day-old mascara from her eyes and welcomed her favorite day of the year, St. Patrick’s Day. I’ll shower tomorrow Jill thought to herself as she got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a cranberry juice and vodka breakfast.

 “We got like 9 dudes meeting us at the bar in 20 minutes so hurry up,” Cammy told Jill while applying her 9th coat of eyeliner. Jill rolled her eyes and took a long pull from a plastic bottle of Karkov vodka. “Hold up. I want to finish this bottle and smoke a cig before we go.” Cammy ignored Jill and adjusted her white ultra low-rise mini, mini skirt in the mirror.

 “Is that my skirt?” Jill asked. “No, it’s a strapless bra I turned into a skirt. Are you jealous,” Cammy smiled. “Yes! OMG! I can’t see shit anymore since I swallowed my contacts the other night. It totally looks like my skirt.” Jill slammed the last of her vodka and headed off to get ready for the day.

The bar was a sea of green and drunk. Random squeals, screams and chants could be heard throughout the day. Instead of wearing a bra and a shirt like most women do when in public, Jill painted what looked to be a belly shirt on her chest that read: Feck Me.

 “Clothes make me sweat,” she told the random girls in the bar who walked past her calling her names like skeezer, skank and hoeface.

Jill’s 2010 St. Patrick’s Day was unlike any she’s had before. Jill drank Irish car bombs, green beer and shots of tequila throughout the afternoon and into the evening. It was a day of self-reflection and self-discovery.

“I can totally fit my whole ass in the urinal,” she bragged to a group of roofie enthusiasts in white baseball caps who promised her two strands of green beads for every time she lifted up her skirt.

“How come every guy I go home with never calls me the next day? It’s not like I’m ugly or old,” Jill confided in Cammy around 4 pm.

“I’ve realized that my hair looks better if I only wash it once a week,” Jill shared with Cammy at 6 pm.

“I believe that there are bars in heaven where you can play beer pong and do bodyshots off your best friends,” Jill told the restroom attendant while she cleaned up Jill’s vomit at 8 pm.

And during the brief periods that Jill could stand that day, she spent them dancing and requesting that the  DJ play Ke$sha’s “Tik Tok” song.

“Play I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack NOW,” she screamed into the 20-year-old part-time DJ/aspiring rapper/ full-time dishwasher’s gauged ears. “We just did five minutes ago, you idiot,” the DJ pointed out.

Nothing seemed to faze Jill this day. That is until she locked eyes with her arch-nemesis, Morgan..with a K.

“What’s that fat bitch doing here,” she whispered to Cammy in what most sober people would define as shouting.

Korgan (pronounced Morgan) and Jill were not only once friends, but roommates. Unfortunately, they had a falling out freshman year when Jill accused Korgan of stealing her favorite Victoria’s Secret Pink brand sweat pants.

“Give me my Pink sweatpants back, Korgan! You know they’re too small for you!” Jill wrote on the dry-erase board outside of their shared dorm room.

Korgan vehemently denied any pants stealing and replaced Jill’s dry-erase message with her own: “Jill cuts the tags out of her pants, but we all know she’s really a size 6 – fatty!”

Until St. Patrick’s Day 2010, the two girls had not spoken face-to-face since before those hateful dry-erase messages were exchanged.

Korgan gave Jill the death stare as she walked up to her on the dance floor. “I smell something extra skanky,” Korgan pointed out to a friend as she passed by Jill.

“Keep walking hoebag. We need your ass to leave so we can free up some space on the dance floor,” Jill shouted as Korgan continued walking.

Luckily, that was the ladies only encounter. Both felt St. Patrick’s Day to be too sacred a day to waste it on fighting. “I refuse to let that sweatpant-stealing hoochie ruin my holiday,” Jill told the restroom attendant as she cleaned up Jill’s vomit around 9 pm.

By 10 pm Jill was lying across two bar stools with her head in a random guy’s lap. She would rise every ten minutes to yell in Cammy’s direction, “Cammy! I wanna go home!”

Cammy ignored Jill and continued to dance with her friend’s boyfriends. Luckily for Cammy, these guys freed up once her too intoxicated friends were forced to call it an early night. Cammy prided herself in the ability to drink her girlfriends under the table.  However, once Cammy got so drunk that she fell onto a table and Jill was discovered sleeping by a bouncer, they were both asked to leave. On the way out the girl’s grabbed parting gifts in the form of two random guys strategically standing by the exit. Jill and Cammy each grabbed one by the hand without looking at their faces and out the door they went.

The foursome set their sights on Taco Bell, which pleased Jill who was repeatedly shouting in the cab, “I love sour cream!”

After Taco Bell, Jill insisted the cab driver find a place for her to get waxed.

“I need a Brazilian. Find me a Brazilian lady with hot wax!”

The cab driver assured Jill that every beauty salon/spa would be closed at Midnight. After crying for a brief period over her stubbled lady parts, she conceded.

“How bout tanning? Can you take me tanning?” Jill asked the cab driver.

“Dude, tanning isn’t going to be open. Just go twice tomorrow,” Cammy pointed out.

Soon the foursome retired to Jill’s apartment where the girls paired off  into separate rooms with their new Romeos to pass out. In the morning they were awoken to find their “hotties” consisted of one 40-year-old married dude and a guy with no teeth. Apparently meth wreaks havoc in your mouth and dentures are expensive.

Regardless of their bad judgement, the girls said goodbye to their new friends and agreed that what they could remember of  St. Patrick’s Day 2010 would live on in their hearts and livers forever.

St. Patrick’s Day 2010 you say?

 No, this is just Jill on a normal Tuesday. Long Islands and Taco Bell make her sleepy.

She’s so pretty!

When you know it’s time to break up.

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And here is a very important announcement brought to you by a pale gurl…

Signs that it may be time for you to end your relationship:

1. HIS stuffed animal collection is taking up the entire bed. You have resorted to sleeping on the floor with his seven cats. RUN!

2. She sat on your dad’s lap again this past Thanksgiving…without her pants on.

3. He’s been sexting back and forth with a vegan/massage therapy school drop-out about what he “wants” to do to her. Excuse me? Not only is this hurtful, but it is also embarrassing. I mean what kind of pansie are you dating that he can’t close the deal with a vegan. Everyone knows vegans are easy.

4. She leaves you so she can backpack around Europe on her own for 3 months. She says it’s to “find herself” and “see the world,” yet she sends you one postard, calls twice and only comes back with pictures showcasing night after night of binge drinking, rubbing on other men and sleeping in co-ed hostel rooms. Despite her excuses, no, she will not get a better night’s sleep by pushing her bunk bed together with those of random German dudes.

5. He or She has a lock on their cell phone. There are only 3 reasons people lock their cell phones with secret codes:

1. Cuz they are cheaters.

2. Cuz they are secretly gay.

3. Cuz they are like 70 years old and can’t figure the damn thing out.

6. After you have been dating 8 years, you ask, “What’s the next step for us in this relationship?” And your significant other says: “I was thinking Arby’s for dinner. I could really go for a couple beef and cheddars. Can you borrow me 10 bucks?”

7. He’s driving his “friend” who just happens to be a lady down to the free clinic while you’re at work.

8. She quits her job so that she can go back to school while you continue to work full-time. Then instead of studying or going to class,  she spends her days over at your unemployed douche bag neighbor’s apartment smoking his weed and drinking whatever concoction he has roofied up for her. Get out now and remember, never date a chick in bartending  school – ever again!

9. He’s always having to use your computer since his computer is constantly infected with crazy viruses from all the “specialty” sites he frequents.  sexygiraffelove.com is not a site that “all the dudes are on these days.” Get out now and call Peta!

10. She tells you: “No, I’m not gay. I only play one when I’m drinking.” Eventually she’ll figure out her lesbian ways and send you packing. Be warned this realization may take years – ala Meredith Baxter (aka Mrs. Keaton) style.

11. He only bathes when your sister is coming over.

12. You want to have a kid, but when you ask him if he wants one he says: “Yah. For sure. Let’s adopt…a hot 19-year-old.”  Note to the reader: he did not distinguish whether the “hot 19-year-old” be male or female. Therefore, not only is he a perv, but he may be bi as well.

13. He can and will sing the entire soundtrack to The Little Mermaid and Aladdin. That’s just creepy.

14. She thinks you’re rich because you have indoor plumbing. That’s what you call Anna Nicole Smith Syndrome. Soon she’ll be maxing out your credit card on saline, silicone, botox, lip-liner, hair bleach and KFC.

15. He and his friends are constantly going on what they call “Mancations” where he and his man-friends spend weekends in a deserted cabin in the middle of the woods so that they can drink cosmopolitans, read US Weekly, giggle and sit around in their hip hugger boy shorts. THIS IS NOT A JOKE. Beware…it happened to a friend of mine.

16. He or she says/asks things like:

a. You know that treadmill ain’t going to run itself, fatty.

b. I think I settled.

c. Has your body always been that gross?

d. What’s your hot friend up to tonight?

e. When you die, can I have your car?

I work at Target. He works at Kohls. It’ll never work.

Ugh! I just can’t date someone who doesn’t wear red on World Aids Day.

…With me? Fine! I’m in love with our Golden Retriever, anyways!

…with me? How could you do this to me during the season finale of Amercia’s Next Top Model!?!