I know I've been absent on here for a while, who knew getting a real job would take up so much of my time? Don't worry I've been doing plenty of stupid shit while drunk to give you all new stories on here. Speaking of late night antics I've been wanting to write this story for a while and feel like enough time has passed where I can. A few months ago I discovered that every woman is born a detective when it comes to men. If we need information about a guy, there is no force on this Earth that will stop us from getting it. This can make us seem brilliant, or it makes us look fucking insane. Either way, guys might as well make all their shit public because we're going to find it anyways. How do I know this?
It was my friend's birthday, so being the alcoholics we are we decide to rent a limo and go to a drag show. Since we didn't have to worry about hailing cabs and the limo was stocked like Amy Winehouse's liquor cabinet it's needless to say we were all hammered by 10pm. Add in a little encouragement from some drag queens and we were a recipe for disaster. We decide to leave the club and head out for a bar some of our other friends were at. We get there, and my last memory from the night is seeing a hot guy at the bar, and going to buy a shot to see if he would talk to me. Obviously this was drunk girl logic at it's finest.
I wake up to a text in the morning saying something to the effect of "It was so nice to meet you, let's hang out sometime." Doing what any normal girl would do I instantly wake up all my friends asking "the guy I was talking to, was he good looking or was he fucking ugly?" We determine he is in fact hot guy from the bar last night. So now to my next problem, I have no fucking clue what his name is. Since I'm pretty sure my drunk self from the night before didn't make any kind of classy impression, I know if I ask this kid his name it's game over. The only information we had to go off of was that he was my friend's friend acquaintance from another hometown friend. Enter stalker girl squad. WIthin 10 minutes, we had looked through the friend's albums until we found the guy in the background of one of the pictures. At the same time, my other friend had this trick where you can call someone's voicemail message without them knowing to confirm the name. Sadly this didn't work, but 5 more minutes and my friends had somehow found out his name, what sport he played in college, and an random post on the internet saying that he had 3 girlfriends at one point.
Ok, so I know with the internet it's pretty easy to find out anything about anyone. But still, women are fucking pros at it. If the U.S. really wanted to find terrorists they should just look for any pissed off ex girlfriends and talk to them. Guarantee within 10 minutes you will have his phone number, address, and the last slut he banged. The truth is women are sneakier than the FBI when we want to be. I just hope this kid is no where near as good as a detective, because if he finds this blog post there is no way in hell he's talking to me again. Oh well, all in the name of comedy.
Hi Bslata its DSJ. You forgot to mention that using these powerful skills, you were able to secure a date with the kid. A full on date..that doesn't happen that often these days. Good work, detective.
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