You know those nights where just about everything is funny? Last night was one of those. A bunch of us went to a house party thrown by our friend Joel. Joel's house is in Newport Beach/Costa Mesa area, right past Triangle Square. So we caravan over there, a bunch of ppl piled into 2 cars. We pull over to park, and there is the largest sobriety check point known to man across the street from Joel's. No worries, as we are a pretty responsible bunch, but we do think it's pretty funny. And the check point was HUGE. The street was blocked off, there was about 50+ cops out there, those ginormous stadium lights, and a drunk tank. Not only that, but the Newport Beach Police Department
sent out a press release regarding this very checkpoint earlier in the week! So this is literally the MOTHER of all checkpoints. Anyways. We go to Joel's, fun is had by all. I have my 2.5 beers, we laugh, we make fun of ppl, the usual. When it is time to leave, we are very much aware that the checkpoint is still there. Now our driver, Nicole, is totally sober. The rest of us are very close to sober. Responsible law students! The car is parked literally on the other side of the street from the checkpoint. We get in the car, aware that we are being watched by the entire Newport Beach police force, and drive forward. We need to turn around to get back home, but none of us want to deal with the checkpoint. So we decide to take side streets. And this is where it gets good. The Newport-Costa Mesa border is literally a bunch of twisty-turney little streets, a maze of beach apartment complexes. And we get lost. We drive around narrow alleys for a good 20 minutes. There are dead ends. All the alleys look alike. We have no idea how to get out. It's like Bourne Identity, minus Matt Damon, but with a car full of shrieking idiots. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a very long time. And then one of us brilliantly remembers that we went over a tiny bridge at one point! Apparently we were stuck on some sort of island, driving around in circles, trying to avoid a checkpoint. Yes. An island. Somehow, we got back over the bridge, and eventually found our way out of the maze. Good times were had by all. And hats off to Nicole! Thanks for driving!
As if we all need more reasons to hate Rachel Ray. Today, I stumbled onto her website b/c of a pic of Ray with Sarah Michelle Gellar that freaked me out. My girl crush on SMG has been documented before, but as of now she's skating on very thin ice. And this is a direct result of glancing at the Ray's page. Here is why. Check it out. Witness the tabs at the top: "Rach home," "the Rach blog (!!!)," "Rach's charity," as well as a tab for "Yum-O." I do not have the energy to actually click on the "Yum-O" tab, and perhaps that is for the best. I am a bit surprised that underneath all the "Rach" tabs it does not say "Rach is short for Rachel Ray." After all, she has to explain that "EVOO" stands for "extra virgin olive oil" every effing time she uses the acronym. There may be some of us who need to know what "Rach" stands for. Right?
