Risky Business

I couldn't have been more excited for a Risky Business themed moving party in a DTLA loft.  No pants?  No problem.  And I had the perfect shirt to wear: an oversized shirt from Banana Republic that I paid too much for to get rid of.  Cute undies and I was ready for the evening.

I clipped my wallet and phone to my shirt pocket with a butterfly clip so that I wouldn't lose it.  I called a Gypsy cab (aka - illegal under ground Korean car service) for all of us and handed shots after shots to everyone because you know what?   I didn't have pants and no one was driving.

Getting ready to head out

How liberating is it not to wear pants.  And even more liberating, making new friends and then immediately losing them during my mutually shared blackout.  Sorry if I offended you.

I'm enjoying the DJs as they enjoy... me.

These are the hosts dancing in the changing room.  The blond is a craigslist roommate who owns a pet rabbit.

Have you ever read Texts for Last Night?  I'm thankful my friend passed out before witnessing any of these "accusations."  .... .... so absurd.

I read an article about regrettable things we do in our 20s.  Getting drunk and embarrassing ourselves is one of them.

I apparently walked 2 miles to Chinatown with no pants.  My socks were black.  I found texts to Jimmy on my phone accusing him of abandoning me.  I guess I took being a "wandering drunk" to a new level.  I wonder if Tom Cruise would be proud.