Daisy-Head & The Single Life

I thought I pulled off the costume pretty well.  I got a hot pink leopard print bra to wear underneath, with the straps showing, of course.  Hot pink fishnets.  Ripped fishnet gloves.  A really tacky pink purse.  Some fake tattoos on my shoulder blade and chest.  A pearl necklace (too obvious to pass up), some fun rings, the silver nails.  The fake eyelashes.  Bad makeup. 

And here’s the very best part….I found some kickass hooker shoes at Payless.  They have the clear lucite bottoms and heel.  With a clear and silver band across the top of the foot.  And the heels light up when you walk!!!!!   They are hysterical!  

I rode to the party with V, who did the punk rock thing.  We got there around 9pm, so we completely missed the game (my fault, I was late and dealing with fake nails popping off left and right).  The normal happy hour bunch “got” my outfit.  But some random guys had the nerve to ask me if I was a mermaid!  WTF?! 

After numerous glasses of too much Turkey and not enough 7, I was feeling pretty good.  And at some point, the clear plastic straps that were helping hold my dress up broke.  The dress was already sliding a little too low up top before that, and I’d been pulling it up all night.  By the time the straps broke, I was oblivious apparently.  There are far too many pictures with far too much of my pushup bra showing.

There were some good costumes.  Marilyn, Elvis, Spongebob, Rasta Guerin, a Royal Flush, a Wet Tshirt Contest Winner, a Vagina, some scary creatures.  And more people asking if I was a mermaid.  Grrr!  The best costume of the night, IMO, was a (gay) man dressed as a priest…with a young boy, um, attached…to his groin area.  I was in tears from laughing so hard.  Does that make me a bad person? 

V & I left around 3am I think.  We didn’t get 10 minutes down the road when some crazy person in a truck jumped a curb and was headed straight for us.  Luckily there was a split in the road to the right, so V jerked that way really quick.  But not fast enough.  The asshole nailed the driver’s side rear of her car, denting up her fender and completely ripping the bumper off. 

We stopped in the middle of the road, got out, and the truck was no where to be seen.  V went running down the street to retrieve her bumper and threw it in her back seat.  We turned around and pulled into a parking lot.  Noticed some girl walking across the street and figured she was walking over from the apartments to get some food.  Then V spotted the truck…through the fence of that apartment complex.  And we realized that girl walking across the street, who had since disappeared, was none other than the hit-and-run-and-plow-through-a-fence driver.

V called the police and they asked if we were part of the wreck at some intersection (barely a block away).  No, we’re really close to there, but that’s not us.  They tell V there is a cop at the gas station on the corner dealing with the other wreck and for us to go over there.  So we do.  V had changed into jeans before the party ended.  I was still in my dirty whore martini getup complete with light up heels.  Quite a sight, I’m sure.

Come to find out, this driver had ran a red light, hit someone, took off through a gas station parking lot, hit someone else’s car in the parking lot, took off again through the Wendy’s parking lot, out onto the street, over the curb, bounced off of V’s car and then drove through a fence.  Un-freaking-real.  Luckily they had caught the girl and she was already in the back of the police car.  And there was insurance on the vehicle (which apparently belonged to the crazy driver’s girlfriend).

After the police got V’s statement, they asked her what her “friend was supposed to be.”  Atleast they didn’t think I was a mermaid. 

A few more pics here.