Sex, Drugs, and Kelly Edwards

I used to go dancing twice a week. I lived with a girl named Kelly who was never someone you would think I would talk to. She was about 5'6" and maybe 100 pounds dripping wet. Blonde, she drove a drop top, she was everything I avoided most of my life. We would go to my bar on Wednesdays where there was a dj, and then on Saturdays we would go to the club. Now understand that I am 6 feet tall. It was not always the most comfortable things to grind in a club with a tiny little prep chick, but we had fun. She was a nut. We met at a telejoke job working for xm radio. I was wearing this torn up Misfits t-shirt and she walked in and sat next to me all Abercrombied out. The combination of her and the early hour made me pretty sure this was going to be the worst experience of my life. We took a break and I went to smoke. She came outside and lit a cigarette.  She said " I know you look at me and hate me right off the bat, but don't assume I'm doing the same thing to you." It made me realize I was being just as much of an ostracizing bitch as the cheerleaders in high school. I fell in love with her at that moment, and we were pretty inseparable for about a year.

We would drive around in her Seabring and get fucked up together. Actually getting fucked up was our main event. For the first three months I knew her she carried a 1/5 of 100 proof vodka in her purse, Smirnoff blue label. Then she would get wasted somewhere and have some horrible experience. She would show up puking and crying and swear she'd never drink again. Then she'd do pills for 3 months.  Percocets, tabs, the occasional roxy later on. We would sit in the bathroom, blow a blue football, and gab for hours. It was kind of a blast for awhile. Then she'd do too much or have some pharmaceutical cocktail and swear off it for a bit. She could be a real bitch about it sometimes. She's get into these fits if she couldn't find drugs for a bit and tell me we weren't really friends. She'd go on and on about how we had nothing in common besides getting high, which was true, and drop me off somewhere. I wouldn't see her for a few days and then we'd get back together somehow.

We lived in this purple house, lovingly called The Purple House. It was set back from the street and had a huge back yard that flooded constantly. It was a neat house with this wrap around mantel and all hardwood floors. We actually ended up passing down that house for years, and a friend of ours still lives there 5 years later. It was a party house. We'd go to work, come home, eat Taco Bell in our little kitchen and get blown for the rest of the night. Sometimes people would come over and we'd play Donkey Kong on the Super Nintendo and drink. She surprisingly interacted with my friends really well. Everyone kinda loved her. She was funny and had an attitude to be reckoned with. She was always getting into fights which was hilarious due to her size.
One night Kelly, Gwinn, and I went down to the local gay bar. She was wearing this red bra with a black vest over top and a mini skirt which was standard attire for nights out. We had downed a half a bottle of vodka in the car and went in to dance. Kelly got attention. Everywhere we went she demanded it, and it got us into trouble a lot of the time. We were outside at one point and these girls started running their mouths about us. I made a comment to one of them with a shaved head and pissy expression that they were just mad that we looked like girls. Of course that started more shit. All of a sudden I have this 5 foot 4 lesbian whose shirt I'd pulled over her head attacking me in a parking lot. Kelly's fumbling about after the chicks girlfriend with a broken off beer bottle. I thought that part was in particularly hilarious. What was this a Western? Gwinn comes out just in time to see this huge dude punch me square in the face. He comes out of no where and has this guy up against a fence, and then all of a sudden everyone was screaming. We were wasted as I said and I had just been struck in the face so it wasn't clear at first. When I started to make it out I was even more confused. They were saying "That's a girl!" "That dude's beating up a girl!" The bouncer came out and separated us. The man who had hit me pulled his pants down to prove his womanhood. I swear to god it was one of the most hilarious and confusing moments of my life. We all went home hysterical. I was sitting in the tub with my clothes on drunkenly taping my broken finger to the other. Kelly was vomiting and all I could keep saying was "Do you know how fucked up this night was?" "Josh beat a woman in the face!" In our defense there was absolutely no way we could have known. I will never be able to erase that woman flopping (yes that word is appropriate) out her business right there in the parking lot.

We had a lot of fun together, some of it probably shouldn't have happened, but it was ignorant bliss. We fell off after awhile. I stopped getting loaded, and she moved on to other things. I am glad I knew her though and the adventures we had together I can't compare with anyone else. She still is an incredibly unique person and I am glad I had that piece of time in my life to love her.

The original caption for this was "we put on our fuck em' dresses"

Definitely used that guy for drugs. He thought he was getting laid. If you can tell by our expressions it did not go down the way he thought it would.

No pants party

Kelly punching my 6'4" boyfriend

Kelly and Gwinn makin sad faces

The back yard of The Purple House