My favorite nice guy, the illustrious Mr. Man Card, came to hang out with us last night while I went on a Crown Royal sewing bender.
With the bags… not the booze.
A challenge to see if I could sew a hat. I looked for hours and couldn’t find a pattern. I looked at the pile of bags I had and decided to just go for it. Made myself a cocktail and started cutting.
It’s effing awesome, if I do say so myself… and lined in cashmere, thankyouverymuch.
We made him model them, and because he’s the nicest guy ever… he obliges us.
Behold… my Crown Royal… crown hat… and my apron…
Running out of things to sew leaves me with a few dozen internet dating emails to check, and my phone is blowing up with text messages from Mr. Bartender.
At which point, and mid-giggle trying to read him the latest email… he looks at me and shakes his head.
R- Jenni… Oh my god. You LIKE douche bags. Oh no. Aw hell.
J- Oh stop. He’s nice.
R- He’s whiny, and omg are you kidding me? A bartender? You know who he looks like?
J- Shut up Robby.
R- I’m not kidding. No more douche bags. You’re a nice girl, no more.
I’m reading the emails out loud and he’s reading my text messages and whining. lol… and I read the last one and he covers his face with his hands and shakes his head.
R- NO. NO. This is just wrong. No. I won’t let you anymore. This has to stop. No losers, and NO douche bags. Jeeez. What do you do in your spare time besides crush hearts and delude weirdos?
R- Right… and he’s just the same. Damn it. I’m helping you from here on out. No more of this.
Just a crazy sister-wife date, in ten minutes.
PRAY it’s funny, I’ve had a long day.