I have been relieved of my duties as Vegas tour guide for the weekend.
I'm still responsible for being a taxi, though.
Regardless, I'm happy about it.
(Last night, I get a text from my friend: "Call me if you're still awake." I follow the instructions)
Friend: So, you ready for me to get there?
Me: Yeah... but I have a confession to make...
Friend: ... what?
Me: I currently have the cold sore from hell..
Friend: Oh man, I'm sorry! I hope you're not putting toothpaste on it...
(like I said, I'm gullible... EVERYONE knows this. In this case, she knows of an 8th grade, toothpaste story that embarrasses the shit out of me to this day)
Me: No... I'm covering it with nail polish...
Friend: AnoMALIE!! WHAT THE HELL?!
Me: And so far, I've found black does the best job out of any color I've tried....
Friend: COLOR?! What the fuck, AnoMALIE?! I thought you were using clear nail polish! Fuck that, AnoMALIE! I'm not taking you out like that! You're banned from the weekend club hopping!
I tried acting disappointed... but I was kind of bad at it, considering I couldn't stop laughing out loud.
I didn't tell her I remove the polish prior to heading out...
I'll just let her keep thinking I'm retarded and walk around the streets of Las Vegas with black nail polish slathered all over my bottom lip.
No dressing up for me this weekend... or make-up, or nearly fighting bitches because they spill their drink down my ass, and especially no cussing at painfully tall heels!
Thank you, Herpes Labialis... way to do me a solid.
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