Which is almost as good as Braless Tuesday...
And, technically, I"m not drunk anymore...
ignore the time stamp, I wrote this from the future.
No, I wrote it last night!
yes; last night.
Ok, so maybe I'm still a little buzzed.
And I smoked two tiny little cheap-ass cigars back to back.
They were lurvely, but I need to go to the tobacco store and get some real ones.
I like 'em big.
YES, like that, perverts.
Hi, welcome to my perversion.
So this neighbor of Becky's is here with us,
and he was just telling us about the woman he works with who's about 65 or so.
She just got a tattoo of a seashell on her thigh.
If you put your ear to it you can smell the ocean.
Becky says hi.
since she can't be bothered to BLOG anymore.
She says she's terribly sorry,
but I don't really believe her
and you would be wise not to either.
Also, she IS sorry, just not like that.
She said that hurt...I guess it was a little rude.
So now I am sorry.
And so the vicious cycle goes.
I now have company.
Everyone has decided to make blogging a spectator sport.
Which is alright with me.
We need more liquor.
And/or some pizza.
I wish we lived in a state where we could order liquor for delivery.
And not a state where we can barely get it anyway.
It's voting day here so the liquor store wasn't open anyway.
We had to settle for MIke's Hard(ness) and some Smirnoff Ice even though we were craving Hard Ice Tea.
Oh, such is the sadness of the life a mid-week lush!
If we had a camera, you could see us all having an orgy, if we were having an orgy.
Dammit, why aren't we??
Becky is painting the drunk-half-asleep girl's toes.
Which is probably kinda hot if you think about their respective sexual orientations.
K says I should write about her girlfriend who cheated on her with a boy,
because that's why SHE'S drunk in the afternoon...
but that is a bit of a buzzkill.
And frankly, makes me a little embarassed about my own lack of excuses for drunkeness.
We started at noon...
And did I mention we need more drinks?
Also, the guy only charged me for one sixer and the 4 cigars, so I scored a free lighter and a sixer.
When I realized what had happened I felt bad, but I was already half-way to the door.
I just played swear-word-filler-inner for a crusty old japanese guy.
Ok, he's only 50, but we're supposed to call him old.
He likes it.
He's not, however, allowed to say "cunt".
crap, I'm missing all the fun.
perhaps we'll have to move this fun to a real live bar.
if we can figure out what time they open on poll day.
I like poles.
I'll get a new camera soon,
and we will recommence Braless goddamned Tuesday.