Anyway, when we got old enough (read: 21), we started going out. We usually tried to go to the most outrageous party in El Paso, which could be found at the New OP, one of El Paso's gay clubs.
The last time the girls and I went to the New Old Plantation Club downtown was two New Year's ago, because last year my best friend was really sick and we ended up hanging out at her house, eating pizza and watching Cartoon Network. Which was fun, actually, and a throw back to the good old days.
Chupacabra spent last New Year's in Aspen, getting jiggy with Will Smith, among others, the bitch.
Anyway, we're believers in tradition, the gang and I, so we're going back to the O.P. in what we hope will become a yearly thing. By gang, I mean the three of us, my best friend, whose web handle is Moonspark and my other best friend, who I call Chupacabra because she's from Mexico and calling her a goat sucker makes me giggle. We invited Mistress Chicken, but she's a country/western girl (with the occasional, inexplicable 50 Cent thrown in, go fig), and does not want to spend New Year's in a gay club, good music be damned.
We went to the mall today and every last one of us bought something slutty. We don't want the drag queens and transvestites to be prettier than us, damn it. I got this bra, it is quite possibly the greatest bra on earth. It gives me cleavage that, if I turned around too fast, could whip out and kill a man. I mean, this bra has flying buttresses and does things to my chest that are, frankly, amazing. I love it.
I also got a shirt that takes full advantage of my flying buttresses. Paired with black slacks and the bad-ass Kenneth Cole platform Mary Jane things I got at half price, I'm going to be stylin' tomorrow. Men will fall to my feet, especially if I knock them out with my newly bodacious ta-tas.
Right on.
