Girl Talk Thursday - 8/20

I missed out on GTT last week. I can't remember why...but I did.
But I'm back this week to join in the fun. Much thanks to our lovely hostess, Mommy Melee for bringing us GTT every week.

This week we're talking about our girlfriends. Ok, not girlfriends...but girl friends. Friends who are girls. Sheesh...perverts.

My partner in crime, Megan, my IRL BFF. She makes me laugh every day...because we talk or text or email or lately Facebook EVERYDAY.

We go the the movies about once a week. We don't care if it's a stupid movie, we go just to get away. We eat popcorn until we're sick.

We've taken overnight trips to the casino together. Last trip she came home and found out she was pregnant. I swear I had nothing to do with it (how could I?) but we joke that it is our Wendover Love Child that she's carrying.

We go eat pie at Village Inn at midnight. We've gone to a 24-hour sex toy store (yes, Utah actually has one of those) at like 2 in the morning.

We go shopping at Walmart when we should be sleeping. We ooh and ahh over all the little baby girl clothes. She cringes (makes fun of me!) at my choice in shoes, underwear, sleepwear...I won't allow her to buy clothes from the men's department. Being "comfortable" is not an excuse.

She grosses me out by eating runny eggs and steaks that bleed all over her plate...sopping up the mess with sourdough toast. I gross her out cuz I eat sushi.

She made me a blanket for Christmas, I bought her a vibrator.

We've danced on coffee tables and sang karoake (Princes, princes who adore you...)

I've watched her puke in her lap after consuming mass quantities of alcohol (this only happened once...she's one of those drink-all-night-never-pukes-never-gets-hungover types. (bitch!). She's watched me go through a divorce and consume mass quantities of alcohol (I'd rather puke in my lap than do that again).

She'll drive the opposite way that we need to go, just to come pick me up. I'll drag her to ridiculous (fun!) concerts and cheesy bars because I know she hates it.

She's a homebody...I am not. I am spontaneous, her...not so much. I'm a bad influence on her...and she's a HORRIBLE influence on me. Eh, maybe it's the other way around...

Together, we are crazy.
Apart...we are crazy.

Our individual craziness compliments the other quite well.

And as cheesy and corny and ridiculous as it may sound...I can't live without her. Well, I'm sure I could...but I don't wanna.

Who else would go eat pie with me at midnight?