Name:Hungry Hippo Location: United States Birthday:12/27/1982 Gender:Female
Interests:Hoppin on one foot, watchin people bicker nonsensically, reminisce about the days i wetted my diapers, runnin cars off the freeway. Expertise:twirlin around like a ballarina with no arms, speakin jibberish. Occupation:Sales Industry:Media
Irene and I met up with Joanna for dinner in the city at SEA. LOVE their food. They probably put a crap load of msg but damn.. it's worth it and it's cheap. The Hip Hop Karaoke Championships was that night which we attended. If you don't know about it, it is actually one of the best karaoke shows you will ever watch. Regular folks like u and me get up on stage, having memorized the song (lyrics, the way it flows, different characters if its a group, etc), perform it to a sold out crowd. Judges were Peter Rosenberg of HOT97, Big Daddy Kane and Buckshot. And the audience are true hip hop lovers who will cheer or boo you off the stage if you don't meet their standards. It doesn't get anymore legit than this! I was there to enjoy the show and to support a friend who made it to the finals. The girl who won was actually a white girl.. haha.
But I digress. We walked around on the second floor looking for a good spot to stand when we decided that we'd go down near the stage instead. Lo and behold, as I was wearing boots with heels.. and mind you, i dont wear heels often.. I fucking FELL down the damn stairs. I've always wondered what it would feel like. And now I know. Luckily I thought it was the most hilarious thing ever and it helped that no one else but Irene and Joanna saw. Otherwise I think that would have been posted all over facebook and twitter.
After the show we were in the mood to dance and drink so off we went in the cold to Le Poisson Rouge for their weekly Freedom Party. We had a good time, danced, socialized and Joanna went home while Irene and I went for pizza across the street.
A few guys who were at the Freedom Party were hitting on us early in the night struck up a conversation with me while we were eating our pizza. As I kept shooting one of the guys down, his friend who was watching the entire thing kept laughing his ass off. I jokingly threw a pizza crust at him and all of a sudden he flipped out and got "hood" on me. He starting yelling in my face about him being from the bronx and killing niggas for shit like that.. blah blah blah. I told him if he couldnt take a joke, then to get the fuck out. His response was to spit in my face. Man... Not fun. I punched him in the face. He threw a chair at me. Irene tried to back me up. She threw a chair and missed. We got shoved to the ground. Shit went out of control for a few minutes but they left eventually.
I just gotta say i have a bruised ego that we didn't beat the shit out of them. I probably could have done better without the stupid boots i was wearing that kept throwing me off balance. I ended up with a scrapped knee and fat fingers. Irene has a semi bruise on her right eye she doesnt remember how she got it. My proud moment was the fact that we went in without hesitation despite them being guys. I understand the mentality of guys who talk a lot of shit because they are trying to prove that they are so tough but honestly, if you cannot verbally make me feel bad, you are just a dumb ass... hence get physical. But on the other hand, I know they held back because we could have really gotten our faces punched in. Another negative aspect about the situation was that no one stepped in to help. The world we live in...
Life is interesting.
Right pinkie finger is swollen.
Pillsbury fingers!!
Sidenote: And I found some other woman's underwear in my laundry last week when I picked it up from the cleaners. God is having a good laugh.
Irene and I met up with Joanna for dinner in the city at SEA. LOVE their food. They probably put a crap load of msg but damn.. it's worth it and it's cheap. The Hip Hop Karaoke Championships was that night which we attended. If you don't know about it, it is actually one of the best karaoke shows you will ever watch. Regular folks like u and me get up on stage, having memorized the song (lyrics, the way it flows, different characters if its a group, etc) and perform it to a sold out crowd. Judges were Peter Rosenberg of HOT97, Big Daddy Kane and Buckshot. And the audience are true hip hop lovers who will cheer or boo you off the stage if you don't meet the standards. It doesn't get anymore legit than this! I was there to enjoy the show and to support a friend who made it to the finals. The girl who won was actually a white girl.. haha.
But I digress. We walked around on the second floor looking for a good spot to stand when we decided that we'd go down near the stage instead. Lo and behold, as I was wearing boots with heels.. and mind you, i dont wear heels often.. I fucking FELL down the damn stairs. I've always wondered what it would feel like. And now I know. Luckily I thought it was the most hilarious thing ever and it helped that no one else but Irene and Joanna saw. Otherwise I think that would have been posted all over facebook and twitter.
After the show we were in the mood to dance and drink so off we went in the cold to Le Poisson Rouge for their weekly Freedom Party. We had a good time, danced, socialized and Joanna went home while Irene and I went for pizza across the street.
A few guys who were at the Freedom Party were hitting on us early in the night struck up a conversation with me while we were eating our pizza. As I kept shooting one of the guys down, his friend who was watching the entire thing kept laughing his ass off. I jokingly threw a pizza crust at him and all of a sudden he flipped out and got "hood" on me. He starting yelling in my face about him being from the bronx and killing niggas for shit like that.. blah blah blah. I told him if he couldnt take a joke, then to get the fuck out. His response was to spit in my face. Man... Not fun. I punched him in the face. He threw a chair at me. Irene tried to back me up. She threw a chair and missed. We got shoved to the ground. Shit went out of control for a few minutes and no one in the pizza place helped us. But they left eventually.
I just gotta say i have a bruised ego that we didn't beat the shit out of them. I ended up with a scrapped knee and fat fingers. Irene has a semi bruise on her right eye she doesnt remember how she got it. My proud moment was the fact that we went in without hesitation despite them being guys. I understand the mentality of guys who talk a lot of shit because they are trying to prove that they are so tough but honestly, if you cannot verbally make me feel bad, you are just a dumb ass... hence get physical. But on the other hand, I know they held back because we could have really gotten our faces punched in. Another negative aspect about the situation was that no one stepped in to help. The world we live in...
Life is interesting.
Right pinkie finger is swollen.
Pillsbury fingers!!
Sidenote: And I found some other woman's underwear in my laundry last week when I picked it up from the cleaners. God is having a good laugh.
Last month, I started working at a semi-upscale nightclub in Soho where European bouncers get to tell people to fuck off if their noses are too big or their attire is not acceptable. I must say, working in this office is probably the most unprofessional place I have been at.
Most people wonder what goes on in an office during the day hours of a nightclub. Well considering it's mainly a bottle service club and it's attended by a celebrity or two each week, we have to man the day hours for rich people, companies and artists who want to use the venue for various reasons. For instance, last week a mother and daughter came in to look at the club which they have rented out.. the entire space.. for her sweet sixteen. We held several fashion week after party events and held several photoshoots during the day during Fashion Week. Then another night we had a VMAs casting where by the morning, we came in finding half the bar missing (it's made of glass and literally broke off). There are literally 2 or more credit cards, IDs, passports and birth certificates left at the bar from the previous night. In short, there's always something going on and shit has to be taken care of during the day before the club opens.
Despite these eventful things going on, the people I work with are probably the most immature bunch I've dealt with in my life. And I hate it. My name is literally "Asian" since the two people I sit next to are immature, barely legal and grew up in predominantly white neighborhoods so they are literally ignorant.
One day I ordered Vietnamese food over the phone and the girl who sits next to me goes quite seriously, "Why don't you speak Chinese to them?". Are you kidding me?!
But times are rough and desperate times call for desperate measures.
Life sucks. Deal with it. Or someone please shoot me.
