I have a friend named Colleen. She's pretty freaking awesome. We have a lot of the same interests and because of this, we always have a great time when we hang out. She's a blogger too! http://www.wordmartini.wordpress.com/ is hers. We both love to write but she's a little more go-getter than I am with making it her profession. And here's some fun news for you: we'll be starting a blog together soon!
The title of the blog is Rotten Peaches and on it, we will discuss all things southern. We're both rotten Georgia peaches who have fallen pretty far from the beautiful peach orchards of southern charm and those perfect southern manners. We use Junior League as our cover-up. Just kidding about all that, really. Actually, we're both extremely genteel ladies who love to entertain and wear pearls and allow words like "y'all" to drip from our mouths like honey. We're pretty snarky though, us two, so it should make for a pretty funny blog. We'll be doing point/counterpoint on southern topics, we'll be interviewing yanks and making fun of them, we'll fondly recall southern pastimes each of us have enjoyed. It'll be a good time, y'all! More news on that to come.
So anyway, I threw a wine tasting party at my house last night for a bunch of Junior League ladies and some miscellaneous friends. Colleen was invited but wasn't able to come. We kept in touch through the night over text, though. What follows is our 2 1/2 hour long conversation and it's something to behold, people. Everything is copied word for word, punctuation for punctuation. I've added some notes in italics. This is what you can expect from the future writers of the Rotten Peaches blog. Are you ready for this? I don't think you're ready. You need to mentally prepare yourself for what you're about to read. Take a minute. Inhale, exhale. You ready? Ok, let's do this:
Colleen: 10:02 Icing my injury. (Sends below picture.)
Colleen: 11:15 pm I looooove chateau ste. michelle. F#$!ing f#$!. (Colleen. I'm going to rinse your mouth out with soap, missy.)
Peyton: 11:16 pm Haha watch it potty mouth! A good time for sure. U would've made it better tho. Ps-im drubkj. (Drunk.)
PeyPey: 11:16 pm What happened to ur wrist? (I apparently did not put two and two together when she said she fell out of her chair and then sent the picture of her icing her wrist with a bag of peas. I was drubkj.)
Colleen: 11:16 pm I'm totally dwelling on our blog.
Colleen: 11:17 pm I fell. Out of a chair. In my defense, it has wheels.
PeyPey: 11:17 pm Hahahahahahaahahahahahahahaahahahahhahahahahahahah (I have issues with being an excessive person.)
Colleen: 11:20 pm So. If we do this right, I really,really think we can do a bk proposal fr rp. (Colleen will obviously be the brains behind our rotten peach operation.)
PeyPey: 11:24 pm Fr rp?
Colleen: 11:25 pm For rotten peaches. Put in drunk contacs. Do u wrk tom?
PeyPey: 11:25 pm Oim drunbj remenber? (This is where it starts to head downhill. I apologize. Translation: I'm drunk remember?)
Colleen: 11:26 pm Have I ever told u I love u? I wld karaoke if I cld. (I'm not sure why karaoke was introduced into this texting conversation but I'm glad it made it in. I. Love. Karaoke.)
PeyPey: 11:28 pm Work. Everyfreakinday. Yes. i love u too. Coffee. Rotteen peach duscussiom over coffee soon yes?
Colleen: 11:31 pm Fuck that. Over booaze. With a camera. What is the internet? Not reality but... (I had no idea what Colleen meant by this text last night. I thought she was being philosophical and deep, so my response was...)
PeyPey: 11:36 pm Yes i agree. Im with 100%. Booaze. Sounds delish. (I now realize that she was saying "Fuck coffee. Instead of coffee, let's do a rotten peach discussion over boos and with a camera." I still am not sure about the whole internet part though.)
Colleen: 11:37 pm Whatever. Drubk. ;) I really missed the peypeyfood tonight.
PeyPey: 11:38 pm Imagine foos of the angels & tjat would be what i served #drunbk (And this is where we started talking in Twitter hashmarks.)
Colleen: 11:39 pm Wow. Huh? #arethereleftovers??
PeyPey: 11:44 pm Haha yes. Blue cheese biscuits, herbed cheese, rosemary skewers, but no wine. (I would like to point out here, that, when talking and texting about food, I made no typos or errors and was completely direct with the message I was trying to get across. #ilovefood.)
Colleen: 11:45 pm I have whiskey. Walk on over.
PeyPey: 11:46 pm Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Whiskey. My friwnd. (Translation: "Oh, whiskey, my friend." Whiskey, in all actuality, is not my friend.)
PeyPey: 11:47 pm Macon road is treacherous. #icantbelieveijusttypedtreacherouswhilstdrubkj (Translation: In order for me to have walked to Colleen's for whiskey drinks, I would have had to cross one of the busiest roads in my city. Also, I'd like to point out that that may be the longest hashmark in the history of hashmarks.)
Colleen: 11:53 pm Gold star. I have a guest room. Fornext time. Wanna see my new lr? (Clarification: Gold Star is a taxi service.)
PeyPey: 11:54 pm Lr? (Colleen frequently speaks in code. I like this about her.)
PeyPey: 11:55 pm Oh! Living room? YES! (It took me a minute, but I got it.)
Colleen: 11:57 pm (Sends below picture. I had no clue why she was sending me a picture of a liquor store last night. Now, I realize she was trying to be funny and was making a joke saying that this is her living room. Hardy har har.)