Ode to the Marina Girl

Before moving to the Marina, otherwise known aslahr land where ex frat and sorority girls go to retire and live off their trust funds, I came across this poem on Craigslist, while looking for an apartment in the area. I never grew into a Marina Girl over the years (still awaiting the trust fund). I do however sport the lululemon sweat pants on days when I'm definately not working out nor plan to. As I
sit at Balboa Cafe on Saturday, it got me thinking....since I'm no longer 23 and not get 31, am I a Puma (aka cougar in training)? Based on Friday morning's wake up, yet again with Plaid Shirt Guy (age 24? Dead God let's at least hope for 24!), butt naked, I'm going to have to say Pumas: 2 Cougars: 0. Thank you kid for breakfast?

Ode to the Marina Girl

---

Designer sweats and Jamba Juice
Big black glasses, little white caboose
You can drink like a fish and snort fat lines
Perry's on Sunday has half priced wine!

You were always at Safeway strolling the aisles
Marina girls grew on me after a while
Tight black pants, and perky little tits
No more Haight chicks with hairy pits

With an LV bag and a little yappy mutt
For some drinks at the wine bar, you let me put it in your butt
We partied and screwed, we had a great time
I hope you enjoyed ingesting my slime

We had a good run, I'd recommend you to all
However, I'm moving on to a new girl this fall
You've made the most of your time on top
Alas, all good things must eventually stop

At twenty-three you owned this town
But at thirty-one I'm leaving you aground
But, if you run, you jog, you avoid the buffet
I'll see you in a few years at Balboa Cafe

Men Who Suck at Life

Boys that suck. The list, the truth. Do NOT by any means date these boys. They fully suck ass.

Send apologies to: notarealaddress@mrstuckermax.com

RATE YOUR DATE Web App-- development in progress-- Yelp for Dates.

The Do Not Date List. By Invitation Only. --- Coming Soon! ---



Mincus:

Comment:
Trouble: "I think we'd be better off as just friends..."
Mincus: "That's fine, you're not really my type anyway, for obvious reasons."
Trouble (silently in her head): "Because I'm out of your league, way hotter, smarter, more confident, or nicer than you?".
Mincus: "Well you know (pause)... (wispering) because you're Asian... to be fair - I thought you were Argentinian when I met you."
Zip Code Rating: 25099

Yale Hockey
Comment: "I'm the best you're gonna do tonight".
Zip Code Rating: 54075

Eww Gross
Multiple texts and drive by Eww Gross encounters.
Zip Code Rating: 11084

Thank you Encore, Thank you Mini Bar, Thank you Vegas

The morning after....Charger brings home "breakfast".

There are no words....

Blonde Like Me

The night prior to jet setting to Vegas (a 7:10am flight is a stupid idea), I'm putting together a Caddy Shack themed party for my clients. Another $35k Birthday Party. Gotta love the 50 year olds who can still live it up. Our clientele is comprised of a number of retired football players needless to say. I look around at the men. Despite how much money they have, I would certainly never 1-0 any of them (see blog post for 1-0 "to blow or not to blow"). Looking around the room, their wives are hot. The kind of hot with help of course. Maybe a handful of brunettes in the room, but 90% are blonde. Everything about them is essentially not what their mamas gave em, and yet with their fake it to make it attitude, they're sporting next years Jaguar, 9-11 Turbo, and Aston Martin. 


My favorite quote from my dad growing up, was when I was 13 entering High School, "Fake it til you make it". Coming from a small private catholic school, it only made sense to eat or be eaten after my first encounter with the public school crew. In a land where girls tore out each others weaves and boys beat each other up for Nikes, it only made sense to act like I rolled with the big kids. As a female in the land of the competition for self approval, "faking it until you make it" is the only way to compete. 


The statement that blondes have more fun is not just a myth. We all know it's true, but for Trouble and I, we needed to see how much more fun is "fun". Everyone loves a blonde Asian right? 9 days blonde and I'm $2,700 richer, have gone out on 5 dates in 7 days (which was exhausting if I say so myself) and experienced the luxury of being escorted by the promotors in Vegas to our own tables with comped bottle service at 2 nightclubs and 2 pool parties. Trading our presence for 2 day beds, 2 pitchers and 3 rounds of shots, SOLD! I suppose it doesn't hurt to roll with a couple Charger cheerleaders in your group of 7? We start our weekend at 11am Saturday morning with a couple Stanford football alumni, now NFL: 2 Broncos, 1 Cavalier and 1 Charger.   

The EC Twins are spinning at Marquee Sat night, and we are at our second club for the evening, Haze having been a utter disappointment on the hot male sector. We are led to the VIP section and the waitress pours our drinks. "Goose and soda", I tell her. "Easy on the soda". We dance for a bit then climb the dividers to the table in front of us to get closer to the DJ's. A sense of entitlement comes over you when you aren't drinking someone else's booze. We toss our heals off and dance on the dividers.  I'm over 5 cocktails in (1 drink wonder status, I may remind) and I look over and see my girlfriend Charger shoving her dance parter. "Eww gross", is all I really hear come out of her mouth. I later find out that the guy whips out his dick and tells Charger to grab it. The bouncer gets handed a $100 from another guy at the table. We basically are getting kicked out (for the 1st of 2 times this weekend) and paid to get kicked out at that. We grab our heels and link hands to form a train of 7. As we make our way to the crowd. Eyes are turning and Charger demands that the bouncer escort us to the ladies room on our way out. He does of course. No one says no to Charger. She's too fucking hot to piss off and not worth the risk of giving up even the smallest chance a experiencing anything sexual with her.  Charger comes out of the ladies room refreshed and tells the bouncer, "he whipped out his dick and paid you to take us away, so where are you taking us now?" She adds gloss to her lips as she makes her demands and doesn't even offer the slightest flirtation or smile. He grabs her hand and we all link arms once again. He brings us to a new table directly in front of the stage. The guys at this table are handsome. They barely speak English and in the end it doesn't really matter as we are being handed stacks of cash to toss up in the air just to make it "rain". We later are given $500 each to gamble with and come away on top. No pun intended as rule #1 for our team in Vegas "KNOW YOUR BABY DADDY" which goes hand in hand with rule # 2 "NO SEX IN VEGAS" (3rd base maximum).  In the end, I walk away my second trip to Vegas in 6 weeks and my first time as a blonde, with a new realization. I may have been hooked up as a brunette, but no where near to the extent as a blonde.  I return from Vegas with proof that these 35-40 year old women married to these ex football players from my Friday night event are simply playing the game. They've all just figured it out. Fake it til you make it until you get exactly what you want. 


In our exploits of being newly single, I'm sticking with the blonde  hair because it's a hell of a lot cheaper than buying my own drinks. It's expensive being an alcoholic. 

Flavors of San Francisco

Monday, May 16, 2011 from 5:00 PM - 8:00 PM (PT)

San Francisco, CA