Bah. I drank, I saw, I drank some more and I don't care.
I got my picture taken by a tagged up wall in NoHo. I told the dude I wasn't photogenic. Oh well. It's his broken camera lense.
I quit smoking 3 days ago, and 3 hours ago I started again. God I am the best personal trainer ever. I also managed to pee in Adam's bushes tonight, spend too much $ on MAC and some pants that are too big for me (I am fucking short dammit,) and eat too much fucking Mexican food. Now I have to go to the gym tomorrow for 3 hours to work that off. Way to go dumbass.
Tomorrow (or later today rather, should I not be useless,) will be spent studying, cleaning, calling various authority figures to get my business worked out, running girly foo foo errands with Karla, running normal errands like picking up my medicine and god knows what else, and then possibly going to P6 to be wingwoman for my best friend Joy.
I am going to pray that dude calls and wants to hang out because if I go with Joy I will not even be able to write about what goes on because my conscience will kill me in about 17 different places. Let's just say that it involves blow (which I hate) too much booze (which I hate), older stupid men that I have no interest in (which I really, really hate), and the requirement to act like a dumbass and cockblock when needed. (No shit Sherlock, I hate this too.)
I don't think I have it in me anymore people. I'm retiring. Find yourselves a new contender.
Fleece.
I got my picture taken by a tagged up wall in NoHo. I told the dude I wasn't photogenic. Oh well. It's his broken camera lense.
I quit smoking 3 days ago, and 3 hours ago I started again. God I am the best personal trainer ever. I also managed to pee in Adam's bushes tonight, spend too much $ on MAC and some pants that are too big for me (I am fucking short dammit,) and eat too much fucking Mexican food. Now I have to go to the gym tomorrow for 3 hours to work that off. Way to go dumbass.
Tomorrow (or later today rather, should I not be useless,) will be spent studying, cleaning, calling various authority figures to get my business worked out, running girly foo foo errands with Karla, running normal errands like picking up my medicine and god knows what else, and then possibly going to P6 to be wingwoman for my best friend Joy.
I am going to pray that dude calls and wants to hang out because if I go with Joy I will not even be able to write about what goes on because my conscience will kill me in about 17 different places. Let's just say that it involves blow (which I hate) too much booze (which I hate), older stupid men that I have no interest in (which I really, really hate), and the requirement to act like a dumbass and cockblock when needed. (No shit Sherlock, I hate this too.)
I don't think I have it in me anymore people. I'm retiring. Find yourselves a new contender.
Fleece.
eazy:
i love drunk posts. Whats wrong with older guys?