You and Chelsea Handler Have Something in Common...

... you both know about my blog.

I know what you're thinking - "OH MY GOD, MEG...YOU'RE SO AWESOME! Chelsea Handler finally stumbled across your blog, found it hysterical, and you're going to be a guest on the Chelsea Lately panel next week! THEN she'll love you so much, she'll bring you on as a writer and you'll get to be in her crazy skits!"

That's not quite what happened, but you're awfully close, and it's kind of like you have a crystal ball into the future of Megan Allen.

Now take that ball, turn it on its ass, and lets go back in time.

About this time two weeks ago, I was preparing for an evening with Chelsea Handler.

Her.
Me.
Candlelight.
Laughter.
Sex.

Amazing.
To prepare for our evening together, I decided to purchase her new book and bring it with me, in the hopes she would have time (in between our other activities) to sign it. However, when I arrived to our date, I was astonished/hurt/mildly-turned-on that she invited multiple other people. 5,500 to be exact. That. Bitch.

I got over the hurt, grabbed Kelsey's hand (I only brought ONE guest, Chelsea), and made my way over to a table to purchase a shirt that said "Coslopus" - Chelsea's words for the vagine. I had to have one (the shirt, not the coslopus...altho I wouldn't turn either down). Once we FINALLY got to the front of the line, Chelsea's minion (not Chuy, insert sad face), told me that the only size he had was an XL. I called him an asshole and left.

Dejected, I turned to my right to see an even longer line with people scurrying and filling orders. I cut the line, went straight to the front and asked what the f bomb was going on. The answer tickled my insides and warmed my happy place:
"Chelsea is doing a book signing after the show... we're only giving out 300 books!"

Spectacular.
I then recalled that I had MY copy of Chelsea's book in my purse, "OH MY GOD! I already have a copy, so just give me a bracelet thingy and I'll be on my way!"
"NO! She's only signing books that we sell!"
"HOW WILL YOU KNOW THE DIFFERENCE?!"
"Because when you buy one here, we give you a BRACELET."
"Touche, salesman."

I then marched to the end of the line, where Kelsey was already standing assuming (correctly) that I would F up our only chance to meet Chelsea. After purchasing our two books AT AND INCREASED PRICE, Kelsey and I then decided to get a beer.

Her - to get a buzz.

Me - to drown my sorrows that my date with Chelsea had fallen apart... and to prepare myself in case Ms. Handler actually wanted to follow through with step 5 of my plan in front of 5499 other people. A handy with Handler in front of a handful of people... if you will.

While standing in line, I saw something that I can only describe as amazeballs:



To each their own... and he owns a fabulous purse.


End Part 1. Stay tuned to hear about Chelsea masturbating, meeting Ms. Handler, and how she came to know about my blog.

WAHBAM! Cliffhanger. Suck on that, bitches.

What I Do At Work.

A dear colleague of mine, who shall remain nameless, has an affliction for buying the weirdest shit for his loved ones... and me, being me, feel the need to make fun of him for it. What else would you expect?

Lets begin a few months ago, when I got wind of him sending a FRUIT BASKET to his girlfriend.

Nothing says love like a fresh mango, huh?

Now, I wish I could take full credit for what transpired next, but I cannot. Another witty/sarcastic/awesome girl I work with also thought that the idea was ludacris, and so we joined forces to send "Bill" some ideas of what to write on his fruit basket card. What began as a hysterical conversation over office IM, transformed into this amazing e-mail that we sent him (click to enlarge):



Bill didn't find it funny and wouldn't talk to us for a few days.

Worth it!

What. The. Fuck.

I'm confused.

To get back into the swing of posting regularly, I decided to go through the pictures on my phone to jog my memory of all the creepy/random/weird/amazing things that have happened that I must blog about.

Lets go thru the time-capsule of Megan's life since we last spoke...


Picture 1:



An adorable Easter basket from my Mommy.
I know, she's the best.


Picture 2:



Naked man with pubes for days, and a floating leaf to cover his kibbles and bits.
Wait, WHAT?!
WHAT THE FUCK, MEGAN?!?!


And the answer is: I don't know.
I honestly have no idea where that picture came from or why I took it. Which kind of makes it awesome and sad all at the same time.

In my defense, I was completely hammered Saturday night (and evidently thought I was straight... sorry Kels). The sweet irony? The one night Kelsey doesn't come out with me, I bring home pictures of a naked man. Awesome.

I then went through the other pictures from that night to see if I could piece together the evening and find out what cesspool I ended up in where naked men hung from the walls... but I got nothin'.

I would post the non-edited pictures from that night, but the people I hang out with are respectable individuals that may actually care about their place in society (unlike me). Therefore, I'll give you these gems to hold you over, since I'm sure you're dripping with curiosity:




Casper: Meg's awesome!!




Notice the Rico Suave "come hither" stare.




And that's quite literally what I remember.


...Well, that and the lone image of a sexy naked man in a floating loin cloth.
Yum.



PS - Interesting/Random Fact that will come in handy to both sinners and awesome people:

It's not Cest/Sest-pool like so many of us (idiots) think.

Spell check kept telling me I was wrong, and I was like "DON'T TELL ME MY BUSINESS! I KNOW WHERE I HANG OUT!!"
...and then I googled it.
And sure enough, it's cesspool.
Who knew?

Suck On This, Nikki.

As you may have heard, Britney has broken up with her man, which leaves a wide opening for moi...

My Dearest Britney,
I don't really know what to say to break the ice, but I want you to know that you’ve always had a small piece of me. You don’t have to worry, I’m not a womanizer or anything; I just feel that I was born to make you happy. I know that from the bottom of your broken heart, it may be hard to deal with boys right now... and so lets begin our Cinderella story. We will have a bombastic love that will not be toxic or outrageous. Instead, you will come to love the touch of my hand in the early mornin’. We can start with a simple hook up... that I’ve been anticipating for years. We can go from there, and it will be heaven on earth. Once I'm on your radar, I hope you’ll keep saying "gimme more." If everything goes well, we can kill the lights, get naked, and say "ooh ooh baby" as we get lucky. I hope I don't come across as a freakshow, I just want you to give love a chance one more time... baby, one more time...

A Note From Nikki

Nikki: You realize that Jesse James' foolish endeavors have left a wide opening for...moi.

Watch out Sandy, here I come. I have a premonition that I'll catch you in the net of love while you're sleeping with all of my practical magic and we can rendezvous at my lake house if I give the realtor two weeks notice then we can share all of our divine secrets for 28 days while we experience all of the forces of nature. But let's be careful not to speed into this relationship too much, we don't want to crash. If we do, it should be in water though...because hope floats and I'm full of hope for us.

How do you like that?


Me: AMAZING. I was truly blind sided by that.


Nikki: Touche.