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Dear Future Employers- DON'T READ THIS... (You to Dad!)

Today whilst in a job interview for a Social Media position, the interviewer asked me what I blog about.

"Uhm...mainly food and my drunken escapades...." Actually, It now suddenly makes complete sense why I will not be employed there.

Then whilst waiting on the subway, ready to head home for a hot and heavy night of washing my clothes and cleaning out my nasty fridge, I found this article!


And I realized...hey! That is what everybody blogs about, and if you can't beat em' join em' So I present to you, a small excerpt of the much bigger novel, "Jordyn: I think I drink too much"


That time we broke into a strangers mansion to throw a party
(Techincally I was sober when we made the mistake....but I wasn't so sober when I sloshed the Grey Goose I stole from their fridge all over the white carpet...so it counts)

I grew up in a town covered in summer homes on the lake that lay vacant 99.4% of the year. The best thing about huge empty mansions? You can party in them and nobody will ever know! So that's what we did. It was the smartest decision my best friend and I ever made. We invited everyone we knew, and then we realized we lived in a town of 100 people...so we just invited strangers. The night was filled with way too much beer pong, spanking my friends sister way too many times, royally cock blocking my friend (Sorry Homie) and a lovely gentleman who could pull his front teeth out and would keep them in a used Vicodin bottle he carried around with him. Nobody would have suspected a thing either...if someone hadn't throw up inside a hand towel and then hang it up for an unsuspecting home owner.



(Sorry 'bout it)


That time I scaled a fire escape and almost fell to my death. 

 The night started like any other, at our local bar full of familiar faces and a little too much alcohol. One thing lead to another and before I knew it the bar did that annoying thing it does and closed! So we took the gathering swiftly back to the apartment....except oh no! Every single person who lived there at the time had forgotten their keys (or at least that is what they told me)! How were we going to get back to the millions of cupcakes locked just a few floors up? That was all the inspiration I needed,

"I got this! GIVE ME A BOOST!" I then proceeded to climb four stories, in five inch heels and a mini dress (that had wiggled it's way up and was basically just a shirt at this point). Luckily for me, a kind (see: tired and furiously angry) stranger let me in through her window and allowed me access to the hallway, where I swiftly met up with my laughing friends who "suddenly found their key"....reflecting back I think I forgave them a little too quickly for ALMOST KILLING ME!



That time I knocked myself out. 

I told my roommates they could throw a party (I'm not some kind of overlord...my name is just on the lease) with one condition, that nobody got too rowdy. Thankfully 99% of the party guests respected our apartment and kept it somewhat tame, except for one guest, aaaaand yeah you're looking at her. In my defense, I had spent the whole day drinking Margaritas on my friends roof, before coming home for my roommates little shindig. I had also failed to realize that I didn't actually eat a thing before drinking 45 flamingoes (yep, flamingoes) full of Whiskey. I don't remember much of the event but the small snippets I do remember involve me swan diving onto my bed, smashing the side of my head on a widow aaaaand knocking myself the fuck out. Don't drink and dive kids (HAH got myself a little there).




(Sorry 'bout it)


That time I got rowdy with total strangers....well one of the times. 

A few years ago I liked to drag a friend of mine through hell. I would basically just get wasted and prance around on the lawn in front of his building, crying and cock blocking him for my sheer enjoyment (I had a very valid reason for distress but would poorly drown this reason in alcohol and alas, annoyance). One night though, he had enough and did what he should have done the first time this happened and went the fuck to bed (forgot to mention this tended to happen at 4 am). So I went out to find someone else to annoy. I didn't have to look far though because like clockwork a group of college kids came rolling in to go have some extreme flip cup showdown in the same building! The stars aligned and a few minutes later I was a few floors up flippin' mad cups, sinkin' mad brewskis, bro'ing down with strangers. Long Story short: I never saw them again.


That time I fell in love with a homeless man. 

In one of my great drunken disappearing acts (just scroll down a few posts, it's there), I met the love of my life; A jolly old homeless man sitting around the corner from the bar mumbling away to himself.

"Hello!"

"Hello pretty young thing," Shucks dude, give a woman some warning. 

"Are you ok down there?"  Our little chat went on for a good 15 minutes, he even offered me a corner of his cardboard box....I declined. My drunken heart felt quite sorry for the old gentleman, a veteran he told me (Reflecting back, that was most likely bullshit) so I did what any unsuspecting 18 year old would do, I gave him all the money I had on me ($23...big spender). But then I took it one step further,

"Be right back Joe!" I yelled before dashing past the bouncer (obviously doing a terrible job, I'M 18 DUDE) and over to my group of friends.

"Sam I need cash, do you have any?" My friend pulled out his wallet and offered me the crisp $50 and I was off again like Joe's little bitch doing his dirty work for him. He was overjoyed with my findings, Sam? Not so much.


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