so this girl asked me if i thought she should get implants.

i told her that it would definitely help her fill out her shirt.

she wanted to know if she should get c's or d's.

i said 19's.

her quizzical look wanted clarification.

nineteen inches...around.

the rust falling off the gears was audible.

your forarms.

nothing sexier than a chick with popeye arms.

i don't think i'll see her again.

mmm...tabacco and caffine
goodbye

so today was a super shitty day. just in a horrible mood all day long.

i normally go for a drive to chill out; solitude, loud music, and something to half think about. it wasn't quite doing the trick for me. so i decided to try a strip club, thinking that a couple beers and some boobs might do the trick.

you know you're really having a bad day when a topless girl can annoy the hell out of you. i didn't have the energy to explain that i didn't want a conversation, so she thought that telling me about how she dropped out of high school because of her daughter and the crappy music she chooses to dance to were better than letting me drink and leer.

who leaves a strip club after two beers?