Wine: The Key To Liking Each Other

You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you, don’t you, don’t you!
Well I think that answers that. The song is definitely about me.You let the cat on the table

Before I begin, I want to remind you all to submit you’re break-up story for a chance to win a signed copy of Axing My Exes and a comic of your romantic tragedy turned into a comedy by Thingsmyexsaid. The Best-Worst Break Up Story Ever Contest runs till Monday so send in your juicy piece of ex-meat now!

Ok. Back to me.

I’m obviously not a timid and insecure kind of girl who wonders if people like me. I first assume they don’t. Which makes me immediately hate them. And you’d be able to read that all over my face if my large bug eyes and all-teeth smile didn’t hide it so well. Not everyone can be as lucky in the distracting-features-department as I am. And thank Jesus for that. If my face reacted with my thoughts I would never have friends.

And that is the topic for today. Making female friends. Worth it? or Fuck it?

It has come to my attention that girls like to hang out with other girls. This hasn’t always been my thing, because I already have a bunch of personalities in my own head, and I don’t have much room left, and I’m not a settler. Not with men and not with friends. So I’ve devised a 3-point system. And since this, I’ve been lucky enough to find girls who like watching homeless guys fall down stairs as much as I do.

Rule 1- Swearing is necessary. Nothing wakes up a convo more than dropping an f-bomb during a usually boring pg topic, like gardening. “We just planted some roses next to our berries that those fucking squirrels keep stealing. The pricks.”

Now I’m warming up to you.

Rule 2. Sex. If you make a sexual reference or slip in an ex story during regular convo, you’ve got my interest. “Where do you live?” Sweden. “Oh I used to have marathon sex with a smokin hot Scandi before I married Mr. once a week.”

Yep. I like you. But do you drink?

Rule 3. Wine. Anytime. Anywhere. What would you like to drink? “Some red wine would be great.” But you’re pregnant, are you sure you don’t want water? “Alright, I’ll have that too. But add a couple drops of gin to it. Sapphire. Thanks.”


If you think about it, my bitchy disdain could turn into pure love in one sentence: “This place sucks a bunch of cocks- they only have coffee. Fuck them. Let’s go next door for a cab sauv.”

Soon we’ll be going to ball games together, hoping to sit next to the girl who says no to a public proposal, runs away frantically and falls down the stadium steps. Miracles happen. If that isn’t God’s way of showing he appreciates me, I don’t know what is.

I know I’m an asshole for laughing at other people getting hurt, but it’s not like I’m alone. Have you ever met a baby?

Ps. Dear Caramilk, really? You’re still working the ‘unlock the secret’ angle? It’s caramel in chocolate. Done by a thousand companies. Outed by the tv show How It’s Made. Move on Cadbury. Move on.

I cannot wait to start reading all of your stories this weekend. The winner will be announced on Monday’s blog post! Goodluck and as always, Line it up!

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