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Clair Went to Atlanta – Part 2

TWO DAYS LATER…

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Blair: So, have you talked to Ted from Atlanta?

Clair: No.

Blair: Did you guys hook up?

Clair: No.

Blair: So why did you even tell me about him then?

Clair: You asked if I met a man.

Blair: I think I’m in love with my spin instructor.

Clair: God, you need a hobby. I knew you and Jason stopped fucking. I could feel it.

Blair: Relationships are complicated, something you know nothing about.

Clair: We should still hike the John Muir trail from Wild, quit our jobs and just do it for 90 days. I could finally teach you transcendental meditation.

Blair: Oh you have a job now?

Clair: I’m computer coding again.

Blair: Do you know how to do that even slightly?

Clair: Why don’t you wanna hike the John Muir trail? I would think you’d be very interested in something that burns so many calories.

Blair: Ha ha ha, hysterical, are you a comedian or something? I’m a serious writer. In fact, I get paid for it. How much do you make doing comedy?

Clair: You should take Jason to a strip club and buy him a lap dance. Maybe that’s just what he needs to get the little guy up again? I went to one in Atlanta called the Clermont Lounge where all the ladies are the age of grandmas.

Blair: Of course you did.

Clair: This stripper named Little Bo Peep pulled me aside and told me I looked too pure and innocent to be in such a place.

Blair: She must have been very old. And blind. And not at all there.

Clair: I told her I’ve done a bunch of mushrooms.

Blair: What is wrong with you?

Clair: Gotta run. Enjoy spin class and the lust in your heart for your clearly homosexual instructor.

Clair Went to Atlanta

It’s been awhile, I’ve barely seen Clair. She’s been running around this loveless city like a mad man doing her comedy and drinking in every bar south of 14th street as you guys know she likes to do. I really think a boyfriend would be good for her. Maybe it would make her slow down, have a dinner at home once in awhile, cure her exhaustive and yet simultaneously un-satiated sexual appetite. I think it could make her more pleasant on the whole. I don’t mean to say that a woman isn’t complete without a man, but really one must be mindful that youth is fleeting. Anyway, what do I know, I’m just a serious writer and journalist with my life together (and a conventionally successful boyfriend)  – ha ha ha, is it condescension if it’s true my darlings? I don’t mean to brag but my savings account has become really impressive and I’m doing spin class upwards of four times a week these days (even when I’m tired (!)), Clair could stand to listen to me re: a few things.

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Comfy Chicken from Homegrown in ATL

Clair: How’s your book coming along?

Blair: Did you even read my long-form piece about Ted Cruz and comedy in Salon?

Clair: No, why would I read Salon? I don’t cower to that pedantry garbage.

Blair: You’re terribly inconsiderate of people’s feelings. Also, I’m on to your subtweets, don’t think I haven’t been reading them. “So weird when your writer friends get sticks up there asses the second they get a byline”- not cool, Clair. How was Atlanta? Did you find new vegans to shame?

Clair: I didn’t shame any vegans. Atlanta doesn’t have vegans, it’s a hearty and respectable town akin to old shoe leather. The bloody mary’s come in monstrous buckets – like fish tanks of delicious food-laden poison. Bacon, croutons, and a garden of vegetables spilling out the top, audacious but without pretense. You need a fork. They were strong but I got an extra shot of vodka in each to be sure, not trying to get soft. Atlanta’s charming as hell.

Blair: Clair. You need to cut down so you don’t end up like Charlie Sheen, you’re a lady. Your blood pressure – with how much red meat you eat – Spring is almost here you know. I wouldn’t say these things if I didn’t care about you. Thin is still in.

Clair: Boy, did I have some drinks down there. My head swelled up like a basketball by day 2.

Blair: Did you meet any nice Southern men that were kind enough to overlook your truck driver habits and general personality?

Clair: I met this one guy, Ted.

Blair: Ted! That’s great, what does he do?

Clair: Who cares? Did you know meat sweats are real?

Blair: You’re getting older.

Clair: Yeah, come to think of it, I never asked what he did.

Blair: What did you like about him? Was he hot? Over 6 feet tall I hope.

Clair: Hot, yes. Good looking, no. Not over 6 feet tall, but he had je nais se quois up the wazoo if you know what I mean.

Blair: No, I haven’t the faintest idea of what you consider “je nais se quois” to be.

Clair: Not boring. Not a lame, not a vegan. Not a cheesedick. Not super conventionally good looking.

Blair: You genuinely disgust me.

Clair: I have to go watch “Going Clear” now.

Blair: Wait!

Clair: No.

Clair Wonders if “Bill and Hillary Clint Still Do It”

I’ve been working very hard on my new short story collection so Clair’s usual weird shit that she sends me has actually been a welcome means of distraction. Every day I eat, sleep, and breathe this heroic subversion to the heteronormative narrative in my work and sometimes I guess it’s just nice to have a friend like Clair who enjoys the “lighter” side of life. I mean not everyone can be focused on the big issues! What I find most intriguing as a serious writer and observer of the world – is how she can fall so deeply down a rabbit hole of these seemingly pointless tangents of thought. I love to watch and watch and watch!

She takes on that same intense focus of a child playing by herself for hours with a rudimentary toy – but with hypothetical gossip and inquiries. For example, she showed me this particular conversation she had with her friend, Farah, centered around the question of whether “Bill and Hillary Clint still do it”. I was mesmerized by the way their brains worked on this question and how Clair even came to be wondering about the sex life of the former White House Secretary of State, U.S. Senator, and First Lady of the United States. But you know Clair…I do think they are sweet girls though. 

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Clair Won’t Shut Up About Sober January

Well, we’re in 2015 now and you know what that means- yeah, Clair won’t STFU about all her “goals” and “resolutions”. Now she is my best friend and I honestly did miss her for a few days there- but, it’s never very long before I’m reminded that the woman gets on my nerves more than anyone or anything in all the miles of the Milky Way and probably other galaxies too.

I was at my desk working on a new piece yesterday morning when I heard a panicked knock at my door. I answered to a psychotic Clair.

Clair: How does my skin look? Doesn’t it look great? I haven’t drank in 14 days!

Then she shoved her iPhone in my face in order to show me some insane iPhone App.

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*dramatic*

Blair: Oh my god, how many people have you shown that to in the past week? It’s gotta be thousands.

Clair: Okay, well sorry I’m taking important steps and proud of my accomplishments. It’s good to be your own cheerleader. You know that God (if he’s not not real) explicitly says in the Bible that he wants us to be happy.

Blair: Are you high?

Clair: No, but I think sobriety is affecting my dream life.

Blair: Please never earnestly say “my dream life” around me again.

Clair: I had this awful nightmare! I woke up this morning in complete and abject terror. In my dream, I was all alone at a pool in some sort of Palm Springs type of place. It was like a local pool though where you would run into everyone you know. I was there reading a book in the shallow end (in the shade with a huge embarrassing hat on) and then in walks my ex-boyfriend with about ten friends. He was strutting all hard – wearing really short trunks cuz you know how he does kettle bells and loves to show off his body. I’m the one that got him to stop shaving his chest hair! And then he just comes right up to me and they all circle me like sharks or jocks in a John Hughes movie – and he says, “Yeah, so I’m blowing Ethan now.” And I was like, “What” and then he goes,”Yep, like he doesn’t reciprocate or anything, I just go down on him” as if the clarification made him even more rock n roll. Ethan is a guy we both know, by the way. BUT OH MY GOD HE SAID IT IN SUCH A BRAGGY COOL GUY WAY. All his friends were laughing like he was SO rad and edgy but they were all straight males so it was very confusing. And obviously I would support him if he was gay okay but he was like bullying me with his blow job bragging and it really and truly knocked the wind out of me.

Blair: You know those moments in life when you genuinely don’t know what to say back to someone?

Blair: …Wait, wait, I’m sorry. What I mean to say is I’m so sorry that happened. That sounds heart wrenching. But it least it was just a dream.

Clair: It felt so real though! It still feels real. What if I’m tapping into some supernatural energy now that I am not polluting my body with chemicals in mass?

Blair: Clair. His favorite actor is Joe Manganiello.

Clair: Shit I gotta go! I’m late for my reiki appointment. Gonna try and get this shame from the Palm Springs pool off me. I hope you never suffer the painful saga I have been through.

Blair: ...Thank you.

Christmas, Also Clair Read Wild and Now She Thinks She’s an Adventurer

I hope you guys had a really enchanting Christmas or whatever other holiday you were socialized into thinking you should celebrate. I have been enjoying the quiche and fudge and lox with vengeance. Boy, I’ll tell you somebody’s gonna have to dangle a carrot in front of mama’s face to get her on the treadmill, am I right? ha ha ha. Just trying 2 keep this fun you guys. Anyways, as usual, I heard from Clair. She brought me raw meat that her brothers shot on their hunting trip that same day. That was her Christmas gift to me. She wrapped it in brown grocery store bag paper and raffia. Blood soaked through the paper and onto the card. I gave her fancy French soap and a candle. God, why is she my cross to bear? Somebody send her to cotillion please, am I right? ha ha ha.

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Clair:  How was your Christmas? Wait, never mind, boring. I just read the book, Wild, by Cheryl Strayed. Have you heard of it? It’s about a woman who goes on a really long hike and stares down an entire galaxy of incredible and deeply inspiring tribulations.

Blair: Do you ever ask a question with the actual intention of listening to the recipient’s answer or should we just accept for the rest of time that all of them are rhetorical?

Clair: My brothers shot that meat today. It’s super fresh if you want to make carpaccio.

Blair: Has it been refrigerated at all? I don’t think it’s supposed to be left out.

Clair: This is the problem with people today. Everyone is governed by fear.

Blair: Please, dear Maverick, show us the way back to bravery.

Clair: I am in the process of planning an expedition. I think it will be a great way to cleanse myself from the digital age. Physical and emotional hardship breeds creativity and inner growth. I will count you in. We need to start thinking about gear and camping technique.

Blair: Clair, I swear to god. You can’t even take a shower without your iPhone. What about comedy? And work? How are you going to support yourself? Why do you insist on refusing adulthood so spectacularly?

Clair: I blessed your meat sacrifice with positive energy and supernatural spirits that I am hoping will aid in dispelling the innate negativity that seems to plague you. I hate to watch you suffer from it. I’m going to gently remind you again…please watch the transcendental meditations I sent you.

Blair: You are truly insane. Not only that, you are the least zen person I know. You pick fights with vegans and 14-year-old skateboarders and old men at the bodega! You head butted that guy at In N Out for taking too long in line! Never ask me about the meditation videos again, I will die without watching them. I refuse to follow any spiritual regimen that you subscribe to.

Clair: Anyway, I think you will love Cheryl Strayed’s book. I will leave it here for you. I am thinking I will plan the exact same route she took for our trip. Except for the bypassing, I don’t think we will encounter the same snowfall that she did in 1999.

Blair: Her name can’t really be Cheryl Strayed.

Clair: IT’S FUCKING CHERYL STRAYED AND YOU NEED TO HONOR HER TRUTH.

Blair: Oh my god.

Clair: I’m leaving. Enjoy your meat.

Clair’s Back- Surprise, She Stole An Umbrella and Had Another Breakup

Oh man, it’s been a long ass time since I told you guys about Clair. If you forgot who she is, you can scroll to the bottom of this page and be sadly reminded. I haven’t spent that much time with Clair as she says she’s been “super busy doing her comedy”. Whatever that means, bitch doesn’t even get paid.

Clair won’t stop singing this goddamn song and it’s like, umm you need to wake up and grow up.

Clair to me: How have you been? Wait, never mind, so you know how I have this weird thing about stealing?

Blair: Yes, your one nutso moral absolute.

C: Okay well, I accidentally stole someone’s umbrella from the bar the other night after I had 97 beers and I think it’s negatively impacted my destiny in the very way I’ve always feared thievery would.

B (face buried deeply in hands): You’re out of your mind.

C: Why do you always say that to me? Your negative tone makes me think you haven’t been watching the transcendental meditation videos I sent you.

B: CLAIR! You yell at people in the street, you cyber bully innocent men almost constantly, and you spend hours talking about your “haters”- but somehow, you think taking an abandoned umbrella is the single defining provocation for your batty existence?

C: Look, Blair, sorry you don’t understand what it’s like to be a person of notoriety. The haters are real and that umbrella ruined my life.

B: Sometimes you’re really hard to be friends with.

C: The umbrella ruined my life because Jake-Ryan and I broke up.

B: Who is that?

C: OMG do you even listen ever?

B: Better question why do you always date douchey LA dudes with hyphenated names?

C: We were gonna get married.

B: You weren’t gonna get married. He still sleeps at his friend’s houses 4 times a week cuz he’s too stoned to drive home and nobody even knew you were dating.

C: Do you think I could return the umbrella and reverse divine decree?

B: Please leave my home.

Clair on Unsolicited Internet Advice

Okay, so as you guys may or may not know, Clair has had strep throat all week which has made her all the more insufferable. I asked her how she got it and she responded with her usual crazy ass, arcane prattling – something like, “I did a buncha real bad shit this weekend and I guess the goddesses didn’t cosign on this bitch cuz I woke up and it was like I’d swallowed a duffel bag of Mexican switchblades.” As always, I genuinely had no idea wtf she was getting at – but with Clair, sometimes I know better than to press on about questions I don’t want answers to.

So, then she tells me about a random Facebook message she got and launched into this whole thing about how she “can’t understand how these megalomaniacal, chatty-ass mongoloid civilians who don’t have the nuts to make anything themselves SRSLY never fail to flap their malignant traps at artists everywhere” (as you might recall, Clair is a standup comic). I mean, obviously Clair is maj insane, but when she very earnestly and self-referentially used the word “artists”, I laughed and heaved with my whole chest and torso, I didn’t give a shit if it made her mad. Cuz ew, it’s so assholey when people refer to themselves as artists with complete and unsmiling solemnity, right. That’s like calling your self hot or very smart. I mean I know standup is art or whatever but really how many dick jokes can come out of a white, monosyllabically named woman? And then Clair texted me this screen shot with the accompanied rant:

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Clair: “A random civilian banker whom I don’t even know just sent me that.”

Me (Blair): “HAHA, YOU DO ‘SKITS’ LOSER!!!!!!!!!!!”

Clair: “Ya, see the guy calls standup ‘skits”. WTF is he trynna give me “tips”. It’s like go back to your cubicle and cap rates and bottle service, bro. You’ve never even done standup, where the shit are you getting this undeserved confidence from?”

Clair: “Don’t you find it very peculiar, Blair? How people can simply acquire that Jersey Shore Cast Member type of confidence and just message someone they don’t even know with ‘notes’?

Me: “Maybe he’s just trying to dispense some MUCH NEEDED erudite feedback.”

Clair: “STFU, BLAIR. You’re sucha H8tER!”

Me: “Just sayin’, shitbrick, maybe you wouldn’t have to eat dollar pizza every day if you weren’t such a shrew to every guy in a dif tax bracket than you.”

Clair: “Bitch, I like dollar pizza!!!! Also, I’m supa nice to dudes.”

Me: “Ya sure…and why aren’t you telling this guy to shut up like you so casually do to everyone else???? You love cyberbullying people, it’s like your favorite thing! So really I think you have no right to get mad at such a politely offered ‘suggestion’.”

Clair: “Wrong! I only cyberbully my friends!!! I would never choose to acknowledge someone I hate or message someone I don’t know, that would be insane!! koo koo kachoo!”

Clair: “…If I may switch gears and be vulnerable for a second with you, Blair…”

Me: “Oh Christ, here we go.”

Clair: “Well, I just put so much of myself into this you know…I draw my material from the depths of my solar plexus, I extract it…”

Me: “Clair, you talk about dicks 70% of the time.”

Clair: “TOO SCARED TO RESPOND TO HIM, DEEPLY AFRAID HE WILL SAY SOMETHING TOO REAL AND MY ENTIRE EMPIRE WILL INSTANTANEOUSLY TOPPLE IN ONE FATAL TSUNAMI OF TEARS AND SADNESS.”

Me: “UR A PU$$Y! GTG wash my hair, k BYEEEEEEEEEE.”

Clair on Prince, also a Weird Face Tattoo Encounter

Okay, first off, Clair texted me three times to make sure that I wish Prince a happy birthday on this blog today. He is her favorite artist and as she constantly reminds everyone, his music “makes her clothes fall off EVERY TIME!”. So, on behalf of Clair, happy birthday, Prince! You look gayer than ever and we’ve never loved you more.

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Next I will tell you about the latest looney tunes shit that Clair pulled.

We were at brunch yesterday and she’s going on about how essential truffle oil is to a “not sucky brunch” and why she’s trying to give up hollandaise sauce to decrease the size of her ass but feels “it’s risky business” because she’s sure every guy thinks it’s “rip roaringly sexy when girls eat hollandaise, like get-a-rap-song-written-about-you-sexy”. And I’m just sitting there downing mimosas in order to numb the pain of Clair’s ceaseless food talk when in walks this guy.

He’s about 5’10 and he’s a portly dude. But the muscle-y type of heavy like a motorcycle rider instead of a cake enthusiast, ya know. His head is completely shaved head down to the scalp, totally bald, and he’s wearing a plain black baseball hat. Tattoos everywhere, my eyes are immediately drawn to the black ink tear drops underneath his scary eyes. A MURDERER WAS IN OUR PRESENCE. I was befuddled by the fact that this particular murderer also enjoys a nice Sunday brunch and was wondering about the logistics and humanity of it all until I suddenly became acutely aware of Clair and how this situation was probably about to go terribly wrong.

Clair was staring as if she’d seen an Ewok, or Snookie, the now perpetually pregnant formerly wild reality TV star. Her eyes were locked in on him like she was the lioness and he was an entire pack of gazelles. My heart started beating faster, waiting for the moment in which he would catch her laser eyes burning a hole in his meaty body. Then, he turned around and before I could look at Clair looking at him, I saw it. The man had a face tattoo that took up the entire left side of his face. From above his eye all the way down to his jaw – in haunting gangster lettering – it read “VEGAN”.

At this point, I didn’t know what to believe. The man was against animal cruelty but was cool whacking humans (maybe because he didn’t eat them?)? Or maybe the tear drops were for arugula plants that he had personally slaughtered and eaten from his yard? What an overwhelmingly wide spectrum of possible horrors! Regardless, I was deeply afraid of what Clair would do next as we all know there’s nothing that Clair hates more than vegans. She heartily practices a sort of blind, maniacal vegan racism and regularly verbally crusades against them in a barrage of hate speech while she blows through a rack of baby back ribs. WHAT WAS ABOUT TO HAPPEN!? I WAS SO AFRAID YOU GUYS. I wanted to take a picture for proof of this walking lunacy but I was worried he might shank me with some sort of organic bamboo knife and I wasn’t sure my life was worth the minor victory of a digi snap.

So, like clockwork, Clair gets up to confront him, “No, Blair, this is bullshit, I have to say something,” and she dramatically pushes her chair out into the aisle, making a scene and instantly capturing the attention of all onlookers. And I’m like, “Clair, what the fuck, have some impulse control. SIT DOWN! There are old people in here trying to have brunch! You’re going to get everyone killed!”

And just as she’s marching up behind him, the cashier hands him a huge plate with a cheeseburger on it with his little number stand thing. He turns around to walk back to his table, but his path is blocked by psycho Clair.  Standing in his way like a heroic traffic cop who takes her job too seriously, Clair proceeds to ask him in this deranged and sinister tone, “EXCUSE ME, BUT IS THAT YOUR CHEESEBURGER?!”

And then he just goes, “Yes,” and walks by her all annoyed and gently bumps her shoulder. And oh man, you guys, the relief I felt. It was like the entire restaurant collectively sighed with relief as if a bomb had just been miraculously deactivated seconds before detonation. Clair’s the worst.

But, dear readers, if I take any solace away from this near disaster, it’s that people can change and life is complicated. Murderers can like brunch. People who make permanent, visual statements on their face can change their minds. And I can be best friends with someone I hate.

Clair on Food and Dating

Okay, so last night I was home minding my own business on my couch when out of nowhere, my buzzer rings, and drunk Clair is suddenly at my door. It was 11 pm, you guys. I was tired. I did not feel like talking, I wanted to go to bed. But, as you know by now, Clair is my best friend (and mortal enemy, but don’t tell her I said that) and so I obvi had to listen to her recap her date even though she ambushed me late night.

A note about Clair: she never shuts the shit up about food. I’ve had conversations with her about it before where I’m like, “Yes, people generally do like food, Clair, but you can’t monopolize 95% of conversation by only talking about this one thing. It’s not healthy! Mix it up a little bit, girl! Getta clue, gal.” And then she always gets mad at me, and is just like, “Blair, you never understand. You’re a very impatient person and you also just don’t understand sensual people like me who have a deep appreciation for life’s earthly pleasures.” And then I’m all, “Whatever, Clair, go choke on a hot dog” (just kidding, I didn’t say that last one but I darn well wanted to you guys).

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Anyways, this was our conversation:

Clair: “I dunno, Blair, I just feel like these guys just don’t really get me sometimes. I’m feeling discouraged.”

Me (Blair): “What happened?”

Clair: “So, we were at this fly ass Mexican restaurant, and all the sudden he starts hitting me with these interview style like questions and you know I don’t do well with those, I freeze up every time. It’s like “chill bro, it’s the first date bitch!’… I think I’m for sure done with Chads by the way.”

Me: “What did he ask you?”

Clair: “He asked me what ‘I truly wanted out of life’ and then I thought about it for a second and I was like, I’m just gonna shoot from the hip on this one and tell him the first thing that comes to mind, just like real talk you know.”

Me: “What was your answer?”

Clair: “I told the truth. It’s always best to speak your truth, Blair. So I said- ‘After thinking about it, I think all I truly want out of life is to be very fat without anyone noticing. I wanna eat without repercussion in society. I wanna eat like an underweight high school football player. I wanna eat like the mangey lost boys in Hook when Peter Pan shows up to feed them.”

Me: “Clair, oh my God.”

Clair: “And he didn’t even say anything. He didn’t even pretend to smile or empathize with my selfless offer of childlike vulnerability. I was uncomfortable after blurting that out so I accidentally started attacking my carne asada burrito and then he finally stopped being stunned and silent and then gave me this disgusted look as if I started eating a baby!”

Me: “Well, he sounds like a good listener at least?”

Clair: “YOU’RE NEVER ON MY SIDE, BLAIR! Okay, so after that point, everything just kept getting worse and worse and I was slamming margaritas and then I started rambling and I couldn’t stop. I really couldn’t, I just started talking at him. But who cares? I mean his name’s fucking Chad.”

So I was like: “I feel a deep emotional connection to food, ya know? Do you feel that, Chad? Like are you ever in the middle of eating and out of nowhere, BAM! you’re overcome with loss cuz you know it’s about to be over. You are seconds away from being robbed by the completion of the meal! Soon, you won’t be eating any more, Chad! The apex of pleasure for the next three hours is about to be over and there’s sadness in that, Chad.

And the guy is so dumb that he just very curtly says, “No, I don’t feel that way”, like a total asshole, but there was no stopping me. I really couldn’t stop talking.

So I was all: Do you ever feel that some invisible force is presenting you with a food filled obstacle course? Like when you need to get food for your 6-hour JetBlue flight and so you go and buy your burrito ahead but then you have 40 minutes until you board, and you’re just like, “oh shit, I’m really in for it now’ cuz that melty Mexican prize is burning a hole in your lap and you damn well know you’re not tough enough to get through this unscathed. SO YOU EAT IT, but then it feels like you lost the state championship?

And Chad says, “But that doesn’t make any sense, it’s totally illogical, what would you eat on the plane then? If you have discipline on the outset then you won’t have to suffer later on.” Blair, I hated him so much in that moment. The universe could not have picked a more opposite or deplorable person to have me interface with. And then he dropped the real bomb. Total bullshit machisimo. I almost hit him but then I was like I don’t need any assault charges right now.

He said: It’s so dumb when girls say that food is better than sex. Nobody can actually believe that.

So I was all: Umm, yes they can, Chad. Everyone knows that food is better than sex. AND the best thing about it is that when you finish eating nothing sprays you in the face.

And then asshole Chad suddenly threw cash down on the table, put his hands in the air, and just said, “I’m sorry, but I think I’m done here” and then walked out of the restaurant.

Me: “WHAT THE HELL, CLAIR! ARE YOU INSANE! YOU’RE INSANE. I’M NOT TRYING TO HURT YOUR FEELINGS BUT HONESTLY SOMETIMES YOU’RE AN EXTREMELY DIFFICULT PERSON TO BE FRIENDS WITH. I WOULD KILL MYSELF IF I HAD TO DATE YOU.”

The Bachelorette With Clair’s Mom

I was talking to Clair yesterday and then naturally The Bachelorette came up because we’re two young girls and we don’t have our heads in the clouds like dumb idiots. Anyways, weirdo Clair then proceeded to tell me all about her conversation with her mom. I didn’t even ask her about it you guys. And she just relayed the entire thing to me anyways, against my will! Some people have zero self awareness, I swear.

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Clair’s Text Conversation with her Mom (Bolly) re: The Bachelorette

Clair: “Yo, you watchin’ the Bachelor?”

Clair: “Oops I mean the Bachelorette”

Mom: “Nah not on yet. I will prob turn on for some. Is it one hr?” (Editor’s note: Clair’s mom, Bolly, lives in California)

Clair: “No it’s like 7 hours long”

Clair: “I’m not really liking this season”

Clair: “Not like I like any of the seasons I’m just a prisoner at this point”

Clair: “But my favorite guy on the show is sooooo cute and cool and funny and the best guy out of all of ’em and apparently he died after filming so they did this memorial montage on the first episode and now I’m falling in love with this guy who I know is dead.”

Mom: “Ugg. Oh gosh now I remember that story. Terrible. How did he bite dust again?”

Clair: “Hang gliding I think”

Mom: “Yes. Hang gliding very dangerous. That woman must have been devastated.”

Clair: “I’m devastated”

Mom: “Is ex pro baseball player nice?”

Clair: “I’m not attracted to baseball players”

Clair: “They’re all meatbally and too shaved and tan and love going to clubs and drinking vodka redbull”

Mom: “I didn’t ask if you were attracted to them. I was just asking if the guy was nice on the show.”

Clair: “Oops you are right, my bad”

Clair: “Do you like Andi? She’s got a dope ass rig tho.”

Mom: “I think so. Only watched a little bit. Show is boring, I have things to do.”

Clair is annoying, right. Can you believe she made me sit through that an entire thing, I srsly thought I was gonna die. I truly don’t even know why I’m friends with her. Also, someone plz tell her to brush her hair (srsly).