Odd text reply...

Had knee surgery recently after some slacker dick-tart snowboarder plowed into me at Tahoe.  But, at least I got some GREAT pills out of it that I would STILL be on if Docs didn't insist I not mix meds and drink.  So I weaned myself off quickly, choosing to self-medicate by my own pouring hand.

Knee is MUCH better and actually went jet-skiing around SF Bay this past weekend, right?  Holy shit, wet-suit and all still delivers glass-cutting tit-cicles - that water is freezing!!!  And SORE!  No idea how bad it beats you up out there.  Cop threw me off at one point and just left me, so I'm bobbing up and down in water alone with thoughts of sharks and people on BART underneath me.  Thought water was cold, should have been there when shit-head finally did come back for me...

Back on beach, cop took two pics of me on my phone.  In full wet-suit on jet-ski, then half a wet-suit as I was getting re-dressed, nothing really explicit - bikini top under wetsuit, whoopee freakin' fizz... So yesterday (Wednesday) morning, I finally got around to sending one to my Dad.  It's been butt-ass freezing back home over the last few weeks, and I wanted to rub it in how nice it's been out here.  Looked cold in full wet-suit pictures, so texted him the one with bikini-top and wet-suit bottoms - had my thumbs on sides about to slide out of suit.  Put something stupid like "How's weather back home? Kar"

Hit send. Minute later got:
 "Looking good Kar-Bear (that's what he calls me). If I weren't your Dad, I'd be all over you and trying to get up in that. Love, Dad"

What the fuck fuck fuck fucking hell did I just read?  Stared, backed out of messages, went back in and damned if it isn't still there. Thought even if he was trying to be funny, just really freakin' disgusting and crossed the line.  Sat at my desk, put my forehead on desktop, started shaking and felt my throat closing up, as I'm about to cry - cry like I piss - once even a little started, takes an act of God or car accident to stop until 100% finished.

Do I ignore him?  Did he mean that for someone else?  Couldn't have!!!  Kar-Bear is what he's called me since I was a child.  It's OUR thing - I don't care how corny it is, he's my Dad, and I love him more than any other man in this world.  Even if for someone else, why in the fuck is he talking like this to ANYONE?!?!  He wears Dad jeans, "appreciates" Taylor Swift and complains how young his doctors look for shit's sake...

Compose myself for a few seconds and dialed - half furious / half crying / half crushed - don't care if that's too many halves, I HAVE to get to the bottom of this NOW.  Picks up after 2 rings...

Heard nothing but my little sister Kaitlyn laughing so hard she was unable to talk.  Thought I heard her yelp "Dad - meeting oh my God!", but she's in hysterics.  Appears she's in Indy for the week and at Dad's office visiting for lunch.  Yeah, that's the same bitch who glittered my squish mitten all those years ago got me again...

God I hate that cunt.

Kar-Bear

Bad drugs, bad friends, BAD DOG!!!

Jan 18, 2011 17:30:27

Friends from a band I played with in Vegas were in SF last night.  Offered my place and a night out for taking care of me out there.  Went pub-crawling - ran into one of the cops (not MY cop) and his wife, and they invited us back to their place in North Beach.  He’s great and I adore her – a blast – drinks a lot and ummm, has a medical marijuana card and really racks up the "frequent-higher" miles on that thing.

Beautiful Victorian house, very Full House-ish – open door and at the top of steps is this gorgeous German Shepherd!  Now, I’m about the most “dog” girl you’ll ever meet: I screamed, tail went flying and we met halfway up stairs – hugged, scratching ears “Awwww – look at the good... uhhh BOY!”  Boy oh boy, what a boy – his puppy lipstick was sticking out!!!  Chased me to the top of the stairs, SLAM – jumped ON my shoulders, knocked me down.  Laughing, I flipped over and goddamn – puppy was happy to see me – had his arms around my knee and was trying to make little Nike-puppies with my sneakers.  “Whoa, whoa, whoa – stop pup!”

Cop puts him in the bedroom.  Drinks and shots and TV and music and funny Vegas stories happened out loud.  The pharmacy pill bottles of medical marijuana comes out.  Bass player goes to restroom, opens wrong door and dog comes flying out of the bedroom, sees me, jumps, pot goes everywhere as he tries to sit in my lap.  “Ssshhh, quiet pup – calm down!” I whisper to which he just jammed his snout right in my jean crotch, kept pushing harder - scared he was going to bite my birthing bunny he was so aggressive.  What the fuck is wrong with this dog?  Again with the humping of my knee as half the room is trying to get him off me, the other half laughing.  Back to puppy jail with cop – cop had to go to bed early anyway.

I suck at pot.  Laugh my head off for hours, play guitar forever, get paranoid and scared, starved, then nap – whole cycle takes 10 minutes.  They were smoking and asked me to be the judge on WHICH of the 2 pots(?) was better.  In the future, this is right where I say "NO" but it wasn't the future yet.  I light the bong, bubble up and rip it in.  Ever had a shaken Coke can explode on you?  My Coke lungs itched and expanded disproportionately to the intake.  Held, held, start chirping out my nose and woosh – breath smelled like I ate a pine cone!  Nada.  Second one – thick and heavy – held, held – whew!  Still nothing , but everyone's staring at me alarmed like something big is about to happen.

Couple minutes later while glazing at the TV, I got a phone call from that lady in my brain that we had about 6 minutes of consciousness left, and I needed to start planning right this fucking second for it.  Then she started counting down "5:59, :58, :57..."  Pulled a pillow off the couch, curled up on the rug, face TV with college basketball and announced I was going to take a quick nap.  Dreamt about laughter – was at a comedy club – maybe the TV?  Comic was making funny noises into the mic – kept bouncing it off his head talking about being hit in the head during a sporting event.  Hysterical laughter – like people couldn’t breathe laughing – had to get a better look, so I lifted my head up a little – can’t see what’s so funny.  MORE LAUGHTER – try to get up and squint – what’s so GD funny?

Well, appears the dog got out and was going to town on the top of my sleeping forehead in some bizarro interspecies K9-69. Pretty sure he felt me up as well, because I had claw marks on my shirt and slobber all over the butt of my jeans. Was obviously too funny for any of my friends to assist me, but their stoned laughter woke the cop up, AND instead of helping, he was looking for his phone to film this mutt molestation.  See the kind of crowd I call friends???

Not posting how they described it or length (of canine assault) – suffice it to say I saw the “red rocket’s glare” up close and personal.  NOTHING sexual happened - guess it’s an attempt at dominance or something.  My forehead itched this morning, my hair cowed when I touched it, and my scrunchie wouldn’t make eye contact with me.  Counseling will be sought.

Drugs are bad, friends on drugs are worse and friendly dogs while drugged are the worst of all.

You've been warned…

K

Carolla and Cops

Read something recently about a cop being sued for looking up a girl he pulled over.  Pffttt, if that had worked out, it'd be a cute "how I met your Mom" story.  Here's my "how I met my Cop" story written 5 years ago.  No idea when written we'd still be hanging out together, even went shopping for rings recently.  #gimmemyring
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May 21, 2010 

FANTASTIC show, but I maybe need to slow down drinking a tad...

Saw Adam Carolla last night in SF - planned on seeing the show, have a few drinks and pop in to say hello to him before leaving.  I do remember his standup being fantastic and brilliant, but that's about when the night started to get away from me:

A hotel friend got me a room cheap, since I figured I might be having a few, and, Jesus Christ did I...  Before, during and after, including several Long Island Teas during the show.  Cabbed it to my Irish pub Kell’s after show.  Had little money, but Reason # 5,247 why it’s better to be a woman than a man?  Guys buy you drinks if you’re fun to talk to.  Met a fun group from Washington, and we drank and laughed and danced, only to part company around 2:30-ish.



Couldn’t get a fucking cab to save my life!  It was late with sketchy people around so was kinda scared.  Flagged, whistled, screamed, nothing – all full or just flew by me.  So I started walking in the direction of my hotel and figured I’d get one en route.  Finally found a parked one, ran up to it and found 2 people in the front – odd…  I try to get in, but door is locked.  The passenger asks me for ID - figured it was a security thing being so late, but hey, safety first!  Gave it, he unlocked, and I climbed  - maybe more like tumbled in to be more accurate.  Remember noting how paranoid these SF cabbies are now – they actually have a cage between them and their passengers - almost like we're prisoners!  Leaned my head against the glass pillow to catch a quick nap on way back.

Suddenly I woke up in my room wearing exactly what I had on and using the nightstand as a "damn, I hope my neck hurts in the morning" pillow.  Sporting vodka perfume, I showered, poured myself downstairs to check out and high-tail it to work.  Front desk guy hands me an envelope from the SF Police Department.  Fuck me red...  Did my Jeep get towed?  Handwritten note with a business card read something like this:
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Karyn,
I am Officer Stevens and with Officer Morello, we picked you up last night highly intoxicated.  Instead of taking you into custody, we dropped you off at your hotel to Crystal Rados, who took you to your room.  Please call me to discuss and let me know you are OK.
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Jesus Christ, am I being punked?  Am I gonna get arrested?  Front desk dialed number on card, and I shyly spoke to him pretty much about to cry – really scared.  And he starts assembling the puzzle pieces of my night for me...  So it appears I flagged the police down thinking they were a cab, climbed in, and talked up a storm about comedy, football and my job.  Asked officers if we could find a drive-thru (I was buying!), laughingly mocked several foreign accents, and rolled the window up on my hair more than once leaving tufts of drunken blonde behind.  Smelled strongly of alcohol, demanded a demonstration from them HOW pitchers throw knuckle balls, played drums on the barrier separating the seats and was apparently quite a handful.


Started crying and told him how truly sorry and embarrassed I am.  Turns out, no need to be...  Reason # 5,248 why it’s better to be a woman than a man?  Non-arresting cop cutting you a break asks you out for coffee (no Irish) on next trip to the city!  She shoots, she scores!!!  Now if only I could remember what he looked like…

Not proud, just true,

Officer K