I've been told I should do stand-up. I've also been told I should floss more.

I only venture out of my house for 3 reasons:

1. Walk the dog
2. Go to work
3. For the stories

If not for these 3 things, I may never leave. As a result, I live a sheltered life. I'm sure my lack of life experience hurts me in the long run. I don't understand the difference between bruschetta and fresh salsa. I still forget what side of the car my gas tank is on and I occasionally slam my limbs in things - arms in shower doors, legs in car doors, and I recently smacked my skull off my desk at work when I tried to grab a dropped pen (is the head considered a limb?).

Last week I hit a happy hour with people I don't work with anymore. My one friend, "S," only drinks Coors Lite...as far as beer goes. If you throw wine, mixed drinks or shots at her, she drinks like she's homeless. But beeer? Coors Lite or nuthin'. I never realized how picky she was until I watched her send two beers back because they weren't Coors Lite. It was like watching Ed Norton break up with Selma Hayek. Ugh, what is this hoppy monstrosity, Sam Adams? Bring me a frosty glass of gerbil urine. I will not tolerate anything less than Coors Lite to pass these lips! Well, uh, yeah, of course...because there isn't any other beer in the world that's "less" than Coors Lite (that statement includes Mexican beers).

Before the happy hour came to a close, a chick I also used to work with dropped by our table to say Hey. She was that almost-friend/coworker you regret giving your cell phone number to because you didn't realize how insane she was until you got her text message one morning which was a picture of her with her boyfriend's d--k in her mouth. (and yes, of course I forwarded it to every other person I knew. You can't send me things like that) She was a nice girl, I guess. Behind her back, I called her "Krazy Kate," and it was an understatement. I ended up going to her wedding, which was...surreal, in a gross way. The bride was 7 months pregnant, 'dinner' consisted of mac & cheese which was served buffet-style with plasticware and styrofoam plates, and the open bar consisted of 3 types of beer, 2 types of liquor (bottom shelf) and Boone's Farm Strawberry wine. I gave the happy couple $100. Here's where I get petty:

I'm still waiting for my Thank You card (it's been over a year) and if I knew where she lived, I would send her a preemptive "You're Welcome" card, just to drop the "You're an ignorant, white trash, welfare case,"-hint.

Too much? Probably. And yet, deep down, I think we can all agree I haven't said enough.