Jonathan Goldman Turns 21!!

The other night Lynx & Crew were out in Wrigleyville celebrating Jonathan’s Goldman’s 21st birthday. We did a mini-barcrawl and it was the second place we stopped that warrants a mention in my chronicles.

Since living in the city, Jonathan Goldman has always wanted to go to Cubby Bear. It’s not my type of place, although it is a staple of Wrigleyville. So we honored his request and when we showed up, this reggae band was playing. There was maybe roughly 30 people there, half of whom I rolled in with. Honey dragged all the girls out to the dance floor, where I got creeped out by guys coming up to us and I headed back to the bar so that I would be left alone.

One minute I’m talking to Kooter Kake and the next I’m talking to a bachelor party. I don’t remember how it started and I couldn’t even tell you what was said, although I did diss the groom-to-be because he was from Michigan and some doofus was a Hoosier. They looked like idiots in these bright red t-shirts which they had specialized for the “Bachelor Party Bar Crawl.” One of the guys, forgot his name, got all up in my space. But it was okay, he was a pretty guy. And that’s when one by one my friends came up to us, saying it was time to go. G-Spot. Once wasn’t enough. Ricky Rousse. Twice wasn’t enough either. When Sloppy Shot came up, I still had half a beer left and I was in the middle of a conversation with a guy.

Sloppy Shot: Come on, we gotta go.
Lynx: I still have to finish my drink. -looks to bachelor party guy-
Sloppy Shot: Is it the only thing that’s keeping you from going to the next bar?
Lynx: …Yes… -meaning no-

And then he took my drink from my hand and finished my beer! And then he basically dragged me out of Cubby Bear! I didn’t even wait til we had turned the corner (Cubby Bear stands on the corner of Clark and Addison) before I started yelling.

Lynx: Why the fuck did you do that?!
Sloppy Shot: You were talking to douchebags!
Lynx: AND THAT’S A REASON TO COCKBLOCK ME??
Sloppy Shot: Uh…they were douchebags…that should be enough reason.
Lynx: But that’s perfect! They don’t want to stay til the morning!

I kept yelling as we crossed the street. I was still yelling when we came to Goose Island and discovered it was closed. I didn’t care who heard, the hobos or the skanks or the bros, anyone and everyone on Clark Street heard that I had been cockblocked. It escalated when we went into Mullen’s. G-Spot and Ricky Rousse cornered me to calm me down. At least I think it was Ricky Rousse? It may have been Boomp.

G-Spot: Would you rather have fun with your friends or have sex with a douchebag?
Lynx: …Yeah I choose sex.
Boomp/Ricky Rousse: But it’s Jonathan Goldman’s birthday. Don’t you want to be there for him?
Lynx: But it was a fucking bachelor party!

Let me first of all say, I fucking love Jonathan Goldman like I love Tucker Max. Jonathan Goldman is like a god in my eyes. I was just Hurricane Bitch out of control. Of course Jonathan Goldman & Crew are more important than random ass with a stranger who went to Mizzou! But my poor vag, they all had someone to go home to! After Mullen’s we stopped at Taco Bell for drunk munchies. On our way out, I saw the bachelor party come in. My ire was reawakened. Hurricane Bitch came out and Ricky Rousse and I got into a physical altercation back at Jonathan Goldman’s apartment. Lesson here? They obviously didn’t pay attention to Scruffelhauser’s words “You don’t want to get in Lynx’s way when she wants to get laid.”

The White Sox

Tweedle Dum: “We know why G-Spot likes the Cubs, he’s a drunk Irish. We all know why I like the Brewers, I’m a drunk German. Lynx likes the Sox because it rhymes with a body part.”

 

Hurricane Bitch

January 2009

Buttersauce, Jonathan Goldman and Ricky Rousse planned a surprise 23rd birthday party for Boomp.  Boomp was lured out to Chicago under the pretense they would be barhopping. Birthday boy was quite surprised indeed and never saw it coming. We were stocked up on hard liquor, in particular we had a huge bottle of Ciroc which Boomp and Ricky Rousse are really fond of.

So I started off with cranberry vodkas, unusual for me to do since I’m a beer drinker.  As the night wore on, more people showed up and more people got drunk. I had been a really good happy drunk I was jolly (yes Jolly) and stumbling over myself. I was a happy drunk until I discovered we were out of Ciroc. Upon making the switch to beer, apparently I bitched out Ricky Rousse and Jonathan Goldman. I don’t remember any of this but since I am one of the loudest (sometimes angry) drunks in the group, I’m not too surprised.

Buttersauce came up to me, wondering if pizzas should be ordered. I love to eat so there was no way I was going to tell her not to order them. I was in the kitchen when the Pizza man came. I got drunkenly excited and started waving to the guy, asking if he wanted beer. And then G-Spot ran over and held me in place to prevent me from actually going up to the  Pizza man. I got angry.

Lynx: “I have to give him beer! Let me go!”

G-Spot: “Hey it’s okay, Sloppy Shot already did it.”

Lynx: “That asshole tipped the Pizza man before me?”

G-Spot: “Yes he did, now calm down!”

Lynx: “NO! I’M SUPPOSED TO GIVE THE PIZZA MAN BEER! HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME??”

G-Spot let go of me and I stormed into the next room where Boomp, Ricky Rousse, Sloppy Shot and Scruffelhauser were in the middle of a beer pong game. Not giving a shit, I belligerently got in Sloppy Shot’s face and began yelling at him. He claimed not to know what I was talking about, I called bullshit and then I angrily poured the rest of my cranberry vodka into his cups of beer. I visibily saw that Scruffelhauser and Boomp were surprised and disgusted with what I did. In my drunken state I didn’t care. I seriously felt like I’d been disrespected by not being able to give the Pizza man beer.

I started walking back to the kitchen when I realized that I had been so angry, I forgot about the pizzas. I sniffed the kitchen and asked where the pizza was. Someone made a comment that G-Spot and Jonathan Goldman’s lady had taken it to his room. My ire once again was ablaze and I ran from the kitchen to Jonathan Goldman’s room screaming, “THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!!! THEY’RE HIDING PIZZA FROM ME!!”

Right before I reached the room, G-Spot slammed the door shut and I began banging. I was about to try and hulk the door when it opened and I saw the two with cheese and pepperoni hanging from the side of their mouths. I wound up getting my share and everyone collectively decided that I had to be cut off for the rest of the night. I played nice for a while, biding my time before I could start drinking again. That opportunity arose when one of Sloppy Shot’s friends, Vick and his girlfriend,  showed up.

Sometimes I unconciously slip into a hostess role when my friends throw parties. This comes from my time spent in a frat house. I won’t get into the details, but when I see people come in not really knowing anyone or looking like they’re not having fun, I just have to give them beer. I went to the kitchen and was in the process of taking beer from the fridge when I heard,

Person: “What are you doing, Lynx?”

Lynx: “I’m getting beer for Vick and his lady friend…”

I grabbed one beer for Vick, then another beer for his lady friend. Then I grabbed a third one, “And this one’s for me, HA BITCHES!!” and took off running from the kitchen before they could take my beers away from me.   Lazer soon took me and G-Spot home after this. I don’t know if it was because he was genuinely partied out or if it was because they didn’t want me to get worked up again.

I was such a huge, raging bitch that G-Spot started calling me Hurricane Bitch this night.

Lynx Babies and Company

March 2008

It was the morning/day of G-Spot’s birthday party, and for the life of me I feel like we did something fun the night before but I can’t remember at the moment. Boomp, Scruffelhauser, Sloppy Shot, and I were doing Power Hour and then played other various drinking games. G-Spot came out of his room to see what we were doing.

Being that we were all there for G-Spot’s 22nd birthday, and I’m the oldest in our group of friends (well used to be the oldest until Lyle Harris started hanging out with us), I started thinking about the future. I don’t know if this was because the booze was brought out the serious Lynx in me or if it was because I was getting “older.” I’ve got a pretty awesome group of friends and for whatever reason, I was wondering what traits they would pass onto their kids. Will they be calling me Lynx, or Aunt Lynx, Auntie Lynx, or perhaps Lynxie? Will our kids surpass our awesomeness? Time will tell!

Lynx: “I can’t wait til we all have kids and they sit around playing drinking games.”
G-Spot: “I’m not letting my kids hang out with your kids, ‘Stay away from those Lynx boys.’ Because you know you’re having boys, Lynx. I don’t think you have any X chromosomes to give!”

St. Patty’s Day

Last night Sloppy Shot, Ricky Rousse and I went to the Fox and Hound to celebrate St.Patty’s Day. For a place that’s styled as an English Public House (Pub), it was pretty rocking for an Irish holiday. We met up at Sloppy Shot’s. I was the only one greened out and the only one to wear party beads. For a moment I was afraid that I was somehow out of the St. Patty’s Day loop and that perhaps I would be the only jackass looking like that, so I gave some of my beads (hard earned from a fratty Mardi Gras party years earlier and some remnants from Chicago’s Beerfest) to Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse, so I wouldn’t look like an overexcited douchebag. We arrived and I learned that there were more people way more excited than me about St. Patty’s Day. I definitely was not out of place.

We were waiting on Boomp, Honey, and Lyle Harris to show up, and we started drinking without them. I don’t know how I forgot this, but when the waitress gave me my beer I almost thought she had the wrong order. Miller Lite doesn’t come in green! I tasted it to see if I could tell it was green. The aftertaste was horrible, but it could have been because it wasn’t ice cold- the way I like my Miller. I tried to finish the nasty beer as quick as I could and then ordered a Stella, which to my relief was not green and nasty. Ricky Rousse and I were supposed to play a game of “Have you met the Lynx?” But I wussed out, even though I had the perfect opportunity with all the other drunkards who had come out to celebrate St. Patty’s Day.

I started telling them about this guy (his name was Spencer) I was kind of interested in, wanting their opinions. There wasn’t much to speculate on, so this may be continued in another blog entry if something happens between me and him. Anyway, so I was saying where he was from, where he went to school (really good national schools) and upon mentioning the fact that he had gotten an MBA, I stopped talking and had this faraway look in my eye with a silly smile on my face.

Let’s be honest. I creamed myself and thought about how I wanted to fuck him if I ever got the chance.  Sloppy Shot called me out on it.

Sloppy Shot: “Oh my God! In that second and a half, she just fucked him!”
Ricky Rousse: “If only more girls reacted like that to a guy with an education.”
Lynx: “Hey, it’s hot! I can’t help it!”
Ricky Rousse: “Aren’t you tired of being single? If you like him, you shouldn’t fuck this guy. Now are you ready to do ‘Have you met the Lynx?’ There’s a lot of drunk guys up in this place.”

Waking Up With The Lynx

June 2006

My parents were out of the country for the entire month of June. About 2-4 nights a week, I had the crew over at my house drinking and partying. Of all the nights to write about, I could have probably picked a better one. I don’t remember how this night started but I do know that when I went to sleep, I was in bed alone.

In the middle of the night, I felt someone climb into bed with me. I’m on the verge of flipping out, thinking it was one of the guys trying to do something creepy when I notice that it’s Kooter Kake’s girlfriend. So I don’t cuss her out and just move over, thinking that her and Kooter Kake got into a fight and she didn’t want to sleep on my couch. I roll over and go back to sleep.

The next morning upon waking up, Kooter Kake’s girlfriend jumps out of bed, “How did I get here?? Where’s Kooter Kake?”

I’m confused at this point. She genuinely thought she had been sleeping next to Kooter Kake the entire time. “You came in here last night, I don’t know where Kooter Kake is. Did you guys get into a fight? Is that why you came in here?”

She just responds with, “I don’t remember coming in here and getting into bed with you!”

Yeah right. That’s what they all say. Turns out that Kooter Kake’s (now former) girlfriend was a sleepwalker. I like to think that she really did want to seduce me. It seemed like such a harmless laughable thing at the time. Oh, the Lynx is flattered someone’s girlfriend chose to sleep in bed with her. Haha, maybe Kooter Kake’s Lady secretly has a thing for me.

This is where it all started: random people trying to get cozy under the covers with the Lynx. I would be more pissed about it later on.

37 Dicks

September 2006

I was visiting G-Spot and Sloppy Shot down in Champaign along with Azami and her boyfriend at the time. We started out at a Christmas party in September at the Jewish Dorm. The party was cool in theory. Christmas when it’s hot as balls out? Why not! It was kind of awkward though. It really was a bunch of very nerdy 18 year olds running around. I’m sure they were very nice 18 year olds, but being 21, I just wanted to go to the bars. I spent most of my time in Santa’s room talking to Sloppy Shot or smoking a cig with G-Spot outside. At this time I was still a social smoker. Santa also had an awesome view of the Illini campus.

We let early and spent the rest of the night at Brothers getting drunk. We stumbled out drunk onto Green Street after last call, when all of a sudden I hear G-Spot yell to the other people walking by and he’s pointing at me.

G-Spot: “My Girlfriend sucked 37 dicks!!”
Random Guy: “In a row?”
Lynx: “What the fuck?? I am not his girlfriend! I haven’t sucked 37 dicks!”

I was angry. He kept shouting it to new people and they either responded with “With in a row?” or “Wow, that’s a lot of dicks!” Then G-Spot came across some guy walking with a pizza and it was like they were long lost brothers. G-Spot did the “My girlfriend sucked 37 dicks” line and the guy was like, “In a row?” They laughed and then started speaking a language they only seemed to know. It was the language of Borat. Then G-Spot took the pizza box out of the guy’s hand and tried to run off with it. He gave it back to the guy because his roommate would have been very pissed if he had shown up without a pizza.

We made it back to G-Spot and Sloppy Shot’s apartment. Kooter Kake also lived with them during this time but I have no idea where he was this night. He missed out on our shenanigans. G-Spot for whatever drunk reason, stripped down to his boxers and challenged Sloppy Shot to a wrestling match on their living room floor. Sloppy Shot never to back down from a challenge, only took his shirt off. I forgot who won.

I would learn at some point between Borat talk and passing out that the “My girlfriend sucked 37 dicks!!” line was from the movie Clerks. It made me more forgiving about G-Spot trying to make me look like a whore on Green Street. When I was telling the tale to Jack, who would become the Champaign Cockblock 4 months later, he was not too pleased. He also had not seen Clerks and was thinking he wanted nothing to do with a girl who had sucked 37 dicks or who G-Spot claimed was his girlfriend (in jest).