Wasted Away Again in Blondearitaville
Profile Of A Prolific Party Blonde

"I have the fun of a blonde and the brains of a brunette," The Blonde says.

The night was electric, but it was coming to an end and The Blonde had just emerged from the hottest bar in town.

She was to be gathered up by her group of friends – three girls, one guy – and scooped into a car for some possibly later-night reveling back at the pad. Or, perhaps on this evening, just sleep so they could all be fresh to do it again tomorrow. But for The Blonde, there is no tomorrow without tonight, no saving energy for another day. In The Blonde's world, there is only now.

Well aware of her spontaneous explosive exploits – experience has taught them well – the friends quickly huddle and form a plan to hustle her from bar to car. It's a brief walk, less than a block, but even this short trek can present monumental challenges. Keeping track of The Blonde requires coordination, focus and, above all, teamwork.

The Blonde is right at home on boats.

And, despite the friends being strategically placed on the street corners and at the bar's entrance, the results are predictable. The Blonde has disappeared.

"I thought you had her," one friend tells another while moving quickly toward The Blonde's last known position.

"I did, but then I saw her in your area and lost her," the other friend says, who is also fast on the move.

In mid-conversation, the two friends collide, bringing to mind the Keystone Cops.

Zigzagging through the now-emerging crowd spilling out of the many bars in the area, she resembles Reggie Bush on a punt return. Just when you think you've got her cornered, she's off in another direction. What The Blonde is doing, what she is seeking, is somewhat of a mystery. For some reason, at closing time after a good night of slammin' em down, she gets a sudden burst of energy and takes off running wildly, like a gazelle being chased by a leopard.

It's all harmless and eventually she returns on her own, like a cool cat that has just gone out for a walk. But this is just one glimpse of life in what we refer to as Blonde-aritaville.

She's Off The Wall

Team Blondearita out on the town. Again. Photo: PubClub.com.

Sometimes, The Blonde cannot even keep up with The Blonde.

Flip back to the summer of '04. Literally, as you will soon discover.

A tropical band was playing at a tropical location. There was a boat party afterward. Then, for many, a trip to the bar. For The Blonde, this was a moment to appreciate the surroundings, so she went to see the stars over the water.

But while channeling her thoughts out to the sea, she fell into the channel. Sitting calmly on a concrete seawall – something not bound to last too long, given her sudden impulses for inspiration – she suddenly realized she needed to call some girlfriends to join her. Instead of slowly moving toward her phone, she leaped up in that typically enthusiastic manner, landed on the back edge of the seawall and fell backward.

It was a five-foot drop and her pretty head bounced around the boulders as if it were a ping-pong ball, the Swedish blonde hair eventually left dangling in the water like a drooping sail.

As is typically the case, the Blonde Calvary was called into action. This usually involves her father, who fortunately happened to be around at the time because, like The Blonde, he enjoys tropical music in tropical locations. He took her to the hospital – she was lucky to have escaped with a concussion and a fractured eye socket – and helped nurse her back to health.

Just another day (or night) of life in Blonde-aritaville. Photo: PubClub.com.

The Blonde Does Vegas

What happens when the fast lane of The Blonde is paired with the fast pace of Vegas? Here's a glimpse:
• She worked her way into a Motley Crue concert, was escorted out for having a fake ticket but managed to talk her way back inside, close to the stage.
• She lost her ID (it was in her room).
• She lost her cell phone (left it in a cab but the driver personally delivered to it to her the next day).
• It took her and the Blonde-ettes more than an hour to find the 15 freeway back to LA from the Palms hotel. The freeway is right by the Palms.

About The Blonde

"I have the fun of a blonde but the brains of a brunette."

This is her favorite quote about herself. It's also quite true. Professionally, she's a gifted dancer – a dream is to be a Coral Reeferette in Jimmy Buffett's band – and has been a producer on a sports TV show. With a gift for gab and a comical perspective on things that happen in life, she would be a natural on the radio.

She has a zest for life and loves to go out and see what the world has to offer her each and every day. She has a look that's built to attract attention and a personality designed to keep it. The Blonde is honest, has a heart as golden as her tan and puts her family first in life.

Her favorite bands range from AFI to Buffett, which shows an amazing depth of interests.

But there are those typical blonde tendencies. She's dramatic, is habitually late – "where's The Blonde?" is a common question among her friends – drives like the streets are a bumper car course and sometimes lacks a certain amont of focus in social situations.

She loves spending time in bars and at fun events – always with a group of good friends – and this often leads to these adventures in Blonde-aritaville. As PubClub has learned, if you go out with The Blonde, be ready for anything. And, quite frankly, PubClub is quite fortunate to often be there with her.