I was at a friend of a friend of a friend’s party at a loft in Miami Beach last night. Everyone was older than me by at least six years and they were drinking wine. It was like a wine and cheese party but they were completely missing the cheese. I guess Miami didn’t get the memo or they just have something against cheese. Having experienced the Cheesehead State, I think I can understand where they’re coming from.
I met a fellow Chicago-an. This was a grown ass man who carried a little T-rex toy with him everywhere. He took pictures of this dinosaur as if it were the traveling gnome (you know what commercial I’m referring to, right?). It seems funny at first but then you think about it. This guy in his thirties, with a nine ball forehead, and hobbity. He thought I was hitting on him, so he dropped “Oh my girlfriend is in medical school.” Hahaha and she signed up for a guy who can’t be separated from his toys?
Anyway some things were being passed around and I found myself sitting alone on a couch, seeing double, and trying really hard to be “grown up.” Whatever that means, right?
Lynx: Fuuuuck tired at an adult party in Miami ahhh
Bad-Ass: Enlightening
Lynx: Paranoid sitting in a corner. Why couldn’t there be cheese. Falling asleep
The next morning Bad-Ass sent back my text message, that I didn’t remember sending in the first place of course, and I have to admit it wasn’t one of my finer moments lol.
Bad-Ass: That was fucking brilliant 
I wasn’t even going to chastise you for not being more entertaining whilst [partying] after the first one haha
Did I not tell you that I had to get Plan B because Floppy is trying to make Flop-A-Lynxettes with me?
