- Kathryn and Cookie are throwing a blogger happy hour tomorrow. I’m disappointed that my groupies rarely come to these.
- Popularity Dialer calls your cell phone at a designated time so you can pretend to be popular. You can also put in other people’s phone numbers.
- Beautiful people are more likely to have girls because beauty is a trait that benefits girls more than boys. Scientists, mathematicians, and engineers are more likely to have sons than daughters.
1. Banged. Girls I’ve had sex with. This collection reminds me that my pursuit of quality is a noble one. (Thank you Myspace and Friendster for helping round out this collection.)
2. Coulda woulda shoulda. Huge folder. Either these girls got away, wasn’t appreciating the game, or I lost interest before I could seal it. This folder reminds me of my potential.
3. Girls my friends have banged. Gigantic folder. I have it organized by each friend.
The number of girls probably reading right now that are in one of these three folders: 13.
The digital revolution is a glorious one.
A week and a half ago the worst thing happened to me. No, I didn’t get knocked up; I got a flat tire. Boo. I was at the intersection in the only left turning lane by N. Lynn St. right by the Key Bridge. I was looking pretty cute because I got all dressed up for a dinner date. I looked something like this:
Well, thank God for AAA because they were gonna come in 2 hours! I decided to play a game to see how many guys would offer to help me change my tire. Well, men of DC, you have sorely disappointed me.
The first person to ask if I needed help was a Mexican – man do I love foreigners! He probably could have changed my tire and my oil and cleaned my car. He was driving a van, who knows what (who) was in the back. I turned him down, sadly, because I had to continue with my research. Then a guy who was walking – again foreign! He asked if he could change my tire and I turned him down as well.
Okay, so I coach gymnastics, and I carry my equipment around with me. So guess what I had in my car at the time? A trampoline and a “mailbox” mat. I looked like I was a naughty girl carrying around all this stuff. I recieved many comments from cars driving by about my trampoline. One group of thugged-out white boys my age in a pimped Escalade stopped at the light. The first and only thing they asked was, “Babe, what’s the trampoline for?” I told them I taught gymnastics classes to adults in the nude, and then I told them to fuck off.
I made a quick call to Sally who told me I should try to get people to take my photo. Sadly, this did not work. I tried: I applied lipstick and jumped on my tramp but the only people who offered had cell phones.
The best part of my 3 hours gymnastics show (yes, I waited for 3 long hours), was when the cops came and set up flares! I felt soooo cool and I really wished I had a camera. You should have seen the people pass by and stare. Was there and accident? Where is the other car? Why is there a trampoline? I bet this was what they were asking themselves.
This guy who had been stalking me (he passed me four times within an hour) pulled over and was like I will change you tire. So, I decided AAA was not coming and thank God the cop came back because this guy was very frightening. The cop asked me what the trampoline was for too; I told him the truth, I didn’t want to get arrested for teaching nude gymnastics. 🙂
So, my conclusion is that I saw far too many attractive guys driving very nice cars pass by without stopping to help. Where have all the real men gone? They are all metroed out with American Crew hair gel with their fancy clothes and manicured nails. You could’ve gotten laid by changing my tire! Sike….
By the way, I can change my own tire. Seriously, I was just doing research. But next time I get a flat this is what I will be wearing:
With Love, Dasha
Dobri den! My name is Dasha and I am the new intern here. DCB has been talking a lot about Eastern European girls, so he decided that a mail order intern would be the best idea. So, here I am ready to serve for a small price.
I am of German and Ukrainian descent and my posts are meant to bring a young, edgy and exuberant vibe to DC Bachelor. This is just a brief introduction of myself to everyone, and then I will begin the art of blogging. All of my posts will include a photo that relates somehow to my post, either taken by me or stolen from the internet.
Here are some interesting facts about me:
-I love traveling
-I was a gymnast for 13 years
-I can speak 2 languages
-I haven’t been tainted yet by the DC dating scene, so I will have some great posts about it
-The guy should totally pay on the first date
-I love partying (what European doesn’t?)
–Viva Italia! I will be watching on Sunday with the other 14% of Americans
From the USSR with love… Dasha.
Fly (1802 Jefferson Place NW) is a new bar/lounge that opened up where Red used to be. I was excited to check it out even though I heard they have a door policy that is snobby and Chloe-like. There just aren’t many creative venues in DC, so maybe this airplane-themed bar could become my new hang-out spot.
My friend and I get there around 11:15 on a Friday night, later than we wanted, but luckily there wasn’t a single person waiting in line. There were three bouncers and they ignored us for a good minute until they realized we weren’t walking away. Getting in was pretty difficult: they gave us a hard time about why we should be allowed to go inside. “Tonight is really tight.” Finally I made some progress and they let me through the rope, but held back my friend. I looked at the host like he’s on crack and he said, “Oh well you didn’t say anything about a guest.” :huh:
After the door people did everything they could to make us feel like scum, we finally get inside. I figure this place must be packed if they are being dicks at the door. I was wrong. The place was mostly dead.
The interior design was nice, but the highlight of Fly is the flight attendant outfits the female bartenders were wearing. They were original and got me slightly aroused. Other than that, the music was typical of other venues and the people were your late 20-something yuppie posers who love their expensive vodkas diluted with sugar.
I can’t in good conscious give my money to a place that does not welcome me with open arms. We left after 10 minutes and I made a comment to a bouncer about how “tight” the night is with it being so empty inside. Their talking point: “All our tables are booked tonight so we need to make sure everyone is comfortable.” Sure. There was so much space inside people could bring fitness mats and do aerobic exercises.
I don’t see a good reason to go to Fly when there are superior venues within walking distance. Dragonfly has better music and a relaxed door policy. Science Club has less pretentious people and more space. There aren’t enough self-important Middle Eastern guys in DC to keep Fly’s table-service business model from crashing.
I’ve lived in this area my entire life (sadly) and I’ve never seen flooding this bad.
“Oh no I can’t wear flip flops this week!!!”
Questions I fielded:
When was the last time you washed your hair?
If I use shampoo, there wouldn’t be any grease to weigh down my hair, now would there?
So you don’t wash your hair?
Some girls like dirty guys.
How do you have time to write every day for multiple blogs?
I make time.
Who is that blonde all over RCR?
Oh, that’s his groupie. (see fourth picture)
Nice job Kathryn.