Malloronika

      For those of you less cultured (or as my friend Laz says “culcheered”) than me, let me educate you on a very important religious holiday called Malloronika. It’s an 8 day celebration of my birthday running from the end of August through September 6th. The best part about it is you can do whatever you want for several days in a row with the simple excuse of “hey, it’s Malloronika.” Here’s a recap of the Malloronika highlights.


Day 1 of Malloronika started with Yin and I going to Taco Diner and having some mambo taxis, then reluctantly going to Sherlock’s for “one more drink” which meant one more for her, several more for me.  She was a total trooper which I thought only white girls did but I was wrong. There was a not-my-type of drunk Mexican hitting on me and Yin told him my name was Roberta. Apparently he didn't mind, which is exactly why he's not my type.

You can call us Roberta and Tonya

Day 2 of Malloronika I had to work so I very quietly sexually harassed Yin and another co-worker. If there was a “Creepy” category in the Olympics I would’ve won that day, sugar tits.

Me and co-worker being superheroes, as usual... *long stare*

Days 3-5 I got 3 massages, slept in, ate Pad Thai and didn’t wear a bra. I should probably leave this part out but I’m not going to. I hope you feel liberated just by reading this.

Days 6   *sigh* Austin, Texas

I went to Austin to see my brother and met his friend Phil and guess what – he was my first blog fan that I didn't know previously. It was so exciting when he recognized me and also said I was "kind of" hilarious. It felt like Paris Hilton when people recognize her DJ’ing. Kinda like “oh, hey… is that…yeah, it is. Weird.” And then she does rapid fire karate moves in her head because she thinks she’s all bad ass because one person recognized her. Not that I would do the same moves as her because mine would be way cooler. If I even did that, which I don’t.

Phil and Mitch. Precious, aren't they?

Besides meeting my first fan in Austin, I also met a cardboard cut-out of Snoop Dogg (now to be called Snoop Lion – don’t ask me what kind of weed brought that name on because I do not know nigga, I do not know) and a Mexican dude who was trying to score a Clamato from Snoop Lion’s lair.

"No killa, thrilla, shrilla... I just want some reg-a-lar weed!" -Katt Williams

We went to a cool bar called Workhorse and I foolishly turned down a free Jager shot because it was 3pm and I’m responsible now that I’m 27. Just kidding about all that except the part where it was 3pm. 

Texas breweries map at Workhorse

I also had an abundant amount of Lone Star beer and even found a 27 ounce one. So awesome. Those of you who know my brother know that we had a rip-roaring good time. So good, that I can't even tell you about it for fear the authorities will read this and we will both go to jail. As you may assume (pun intended), I'm not cut out for jail. (another pun intended)

 Happy birthday to ME!

Day 7 I realized I'm too old to drink Jagermeister now and my superfab (pronounced thuper-fab) friend Justin had to nurse me back to health with tap water and the latest men's magazine full of naked guys covering their junk with football pinatas. True story.

On the way home from Austin I stopped in Waco to see my Mom. (AKA Missing Panty Lady) She was 30 minutes late to the restaurant that's right by her house and she cried a lot when she got there. I'm not sure why but since it was Malloronika I just chocked it up to the fact that that's what she felt like doing, so that's what she did. It would've been a hilarious scene to watch it it had involved anyone besides me.

The good news is that Logan's restaurant had painted a mural of Mitch and myself from the night before.

His hair is longer and I'm brunette. Other than those minor details, this is an accurate description.

Fortunately we went shoe shopping and mom and I both felt much better. She blessed me with some fantastical party boots that are a mix between Wonder Woman and Ellie May Clampet. Needless to say, they're perfect for me.

 Party "Boots," with a T you perverts.

Day 8 was my actual birthday. I slept in again, wore my party boots to work for a couple hours, went to Hobby Lobby like any self-respecting old woman, then met up with Yin for a super hot date where she got me a very fitting gift. (details to come in the next blog) Then I went on a motorcycle ride and it was indescribably awesome. In conclusion, Malloronika was relaxing, intense, fabulous, sporadic, and loosey-goosey but not in a sexy way. Feel free to assume further details because I can guarantee they're true. (except you mom. Don't assume anything and no, no midgets were harmed in the celebration of Malloronika. ...this year.)

Moral of the story: I'm already planning next year's birthday celebration. Y'all should come.