Wow. I was looking over my blog recently and concluded that I should probably start another one. Maybe a blog less related to serial dating and the crying of guys involved. I should probably portray myself as a more mature Brittanyjonn rather than the one who wasn't going anywhere in particular with her life and constantly ruining the egos of twenty-something men across Oklahoma. Though, it was funny, and I never ran out of material, it's about time to grow up just a tad.
So, I'm going to revamp I Only Speak the Truth. Even though I completely told the truth about destroying men's self-esteem; I find it hard to relate to now. I've changed oh-so-much. Ok, well not that much. The only real difference is that I am in a serious relationship that has lasted for a year and three days. This, my friends, is truly a means for celebration. Britty is growing up! I'm not going to say whether or not I have made this one cry or whether or not I have stunted his manhood in anyway, all I can tell you is that he's seemingly perfect for me (obviously, it's lasted more than 2 weeks). He puts up with my shit, and let's be honest, it takes a saint.
Sadly, I no longer hang out with girls who flash their boobs to try to get free Taco Bell. I don't go to bars all the time and come home with hilarious stories to share with--what--the three other people who read this? I'm HUGE! I do have a story about a D.U.I., but it would take a lot for me to make that funny. And it wasn't my D.U.I. so I would probably get in trouble for sharing the details (no matter how funny I could make them if I thought about it hard enough).
You know, I could tell you my side of it. Those are my details to share, right? My in depth behind the scenes story of a good night gone bad--very bad. Oh, how edgy!
Fine, you talked me into it! I must share. It's my calling!
The day started out in a field in the country. It wasn't that far from where I live, but it was still shocking to see that much land. See, I forget sometimes that Oklahoma is pretty much just one giant field. I just happen to live on the part of the field that is surrounded by a city(a small city, but a city none the less). I never travel off the beaten path. I always think about how it could turn into a horror film at any moment and it makes me anxious. We were in the country because one of my boyfriend's good friends was in town and his brother was throwing him a BBQ at his trailer-across a bridge-around a corner-past some corn-in the country.
Speeding right along now, my boyfriend's friend was drunk. I mean stumbling around and hitting on grandma drunk(there are pictures). I'd say it's because he's from the country, but he's not. His brother isn't either. I guess he just turned cowboy one day and started talking with a twang. I guess there really is no excuse for him hitting on his grandma--maybe it wasn't his grandma at all. There's a good chance that maybe he just called her grandma cause she was old(Ancient). Anyway, everyone there was getting a little irritated with all this perversion and drunkenness(by the way, he was the only one drunk) and decided that it was time to leave. Everyone agreed on Norman. It was far as shit away, but that is where pretty much everyone in attendance lived. So off we went.
We hung out at a couple bars until the bars were closing for the night. Nothing exciting really happened except for drunk guy falling asleep at both bars and on the ground outside. One of my boyfriend's other friends wanted us to come to his house so we hopped in the car to meet them there. Bad. Idea. We didn't even make it around the corner. I almost peed my pants. It really was a terrifying experience. I have never seen anyone get arrested in real life. I've heard stories, and even the stories made my heart beat fast. I never envisioned myself in a position where an orange jumpsuit was probable. Luckily, I never really had to get out of the car. I was in the passenger seat. Believe me, I felt just as much shame and guilt as the driver. I don't think I have ever felt so much anger towards myself. And disappointment. And regret.
As the driver was getting his field sobriety test, a police officer was talking to me through my car window. He was just chatting with me like we had been friends for ever. I mean, he wanted to know where I lived and he wanted my number. I think he was trying to ask me on a date. How inappropriate! He didn't have any reason to get any of my information unless he was going to arrest me. All I kept thinking was, "I will not look good in orange. The girls will be mean to me. My parents might leave me there. Big girls are scary. Why is this cops head almost in my window? Do handcuffs hurt? Will they put a seatbelt on me? Does 'click it or ticket' apply in a cop car?"
I thought a lot of things, but mostly, I thought how bad it sucked for the driver. After awhile the cop told me that I could get out of my car. I was really nervous, but as I was sitting on the curb, one of my boyfriend's friends who saw what happened rode down on his bike to try and talk the police into letting me go with him. He almost got arrested, too, but they ended up letting us both go. Thank god. The poor driver still got taken away though. I spent the rest of the night figuring out how to get him out of jail as fast as possible. Five hours has never gone by so slow in my entire life. It was miserable.
I guess I didn't succeed in making this story very funny. It's because it's not very funny at all. But who says humor can't be added to a near jail experience? I'm not a felon. I can do what I want.
On a serious note, drinking and driving is not a funny subject. Even though we didn't get very far, I realize that even a block or so could have put someone in danger. If you can afford to go out and drink, you can afford to get a cab. And hell, after all those carbs in beer, you can afford to walk! I am thankful that I didn't get hurt. I'm more than thankful that no one else did.
--BrittanyJonn
So, I'm going to revamp I Only Speak the Truth. Even though I completely told the truth about destroying men's self-esteem; I find it hard to relate to now. I've changed oh-so-much. Ok, well not that much. The only real difference is that I am in a serious relationship that has lasted for a year and three days. This, my friends, is truly a means for celebration. Britty is growing up! I'm not going to say whether or not I have made this one cry or whether or not I have stunted his manhood in anyway, all I can tell you is that he's seemingly perfect for me (obviously, it's lasted more than 2 weeks). He puts up with my shit, and let's be honest, it takes a saint.
Sadly, I no longer hang out with girls who flash their boobs to try to get free Taco Bell. I don't go to bars all the time and come home with hilarious stories to share with--what--the three other people who read this? I'm HUGE! I do have a story about a D.U.I., but it would take a lot for me to make that funny. And it wasn't my D.U.I. so I would probably get in trouble for sharing the details (no matter how funny I could make them if I thought about it hard enough).
You know, I could tell you my side of it. Those are my details to share, right? My in depth behind the scenes story of a good night gone bad--very bad. Oh, how edgy!
Fine, you talked me into it! I must share. It's my calling!
The day started out in a field in the country. It wasn't that far from where I live, but it was still shocking to see that much land. See, I forget sometimes that Oklahoma is pretty much just one giant field. I just happen to live on the part of the field that is surrounded by a city(a small city, but a city none the less). I never travel off the beaten path. I always think about how it could turn into a horror film at any moment and it makes me anxious. We were in the country because one of my boyfriend's good friends was in town and his brother was throwing him a BBQ at his trailer-across a bridge-around a corner-past some corn-in the country.
Speeding right along now, my boyfriend's friend was drunk. I mean stumbling around and hitting on grandma drunk(there are pictures). I'd say it's because he's from the country, but he's not. His brother isn't either. I guess he just turned cowboy one day and started talking with a twang. I guess there really is no excuse for him hitting on his grandma--maybe it wasn't his grandma at all. There's a good chance that maybe he just called her grandma cause she was old(Ancient). Anyway, everyone there was getting a little irritated with all this perversion and drunkenness(by the way, he was the only one drunk) and decided that it was time to leave. Everyone agreed on Norman. It was far as shit away, but that is where pretty much everyone in attendance lived. So off we went.
We hung out at a couple bars until the bars were closing for the night. Nothing exciting really happened except for drunk guy falling asleep at both bars and on the ground outside. One of my boyfriend's other friends wanted us to come to his house so we hopped in the car to meet them there. Bad. Idea. We didn't even make it around the corner. I almost peed my pants. It really was a terrifying experience. I have never seen anyone get arrested in real life. I've heard stories, and even the stories made my heart beat fast. I never envisioned myself in a position where an orange jumpsuit was probable. Luckily, I never really had to get out of the car. I was in the passenger seat. Believe me, I felt just as much shame and guilt as the driver. I don't think I have ever felt so much anger towards myself. And disappointment. And regret.
As the driver was getting his field sobriety test, a police officer was talking to me through my car window. He was just chatting with me like we had been friends for ever. I mean, he wanted to know where I lived and he wanted my number. I think he was trying to ask me on a date. How inappropriate! He didn't have any reason to get any of my information unless he was going to arrest me. All I kept thinking was, "I will not look good in orange. The girls will be mean to me. My parents might leave me there. Big girls are scary. Why is this cops head almost in my window? Do handcuffs hurt? Will they put a seatbelt on me? Does 'click it or ticket' apply in a cop car?"
I thought a lot of things, but mostly, I thought how bad it sucked for the driver. After awhile the cop told me that I could get out of my car. I was really nervous, but as I was sitting on the curb, one of my boyfriend's friends who saw what happened rode down on his bike to try and talk the police into letting me go with him. He almost got arrested, too, but they ended up letting us both go. Thank god. The poor driver still got taken away though. I spent the rest of the night figuring out how to get him out of jail as fast as possible. Five hours has never gone by so slow in my entire life. It was miserable.
I guess I didn't succeed in making this story very funny. It's because it's not very funny at all. But who says humor can't be added to a near jail experience? I'm not a felon. I can do what I want.
On a serious note, drinking and driving is not a funny subject. Even though we didn't get very far, I realize that even a block or so could have put someone in danger. If you can afford to go out and drink, you can afford to get a cab. And hell, after all those carbs in beer, you can afford to walk! I am thankful that I didn't get hurt. I'm more than thankful that no one else did.
--BrittanyJonn
posted by Unknown at 7:48 PM
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