So it was my brother’s girlfriend’s birthday and I had this great idea to get everybody that didn’t need to be in a bar to meet in a bar and get absolutely wasted. At the same time, I was supposed to be watching out to see if some dude I want to talk to would be next door at the coffee house. I guess I should actually start over by saying, I have decided that perhaps I might like someone other than myself in a way where I do not want to destroy their life. This happened about a month ago when I realized he might be smarter than he’d let on in our past meetings.

Ugh, I started writing this like four days ago, and now I am so incredibly hungover that I can honestly admit that I am a super lazy bitch that forgets the purpose of this post so I am just going to alter it so I can post something and get it over with. P.S. check out my brother with his super sexy 70s porn star hair. If you do not notice, let me point out that he and I have exactly the same haircut. I guess we are soul mates for life! He impersonates Beethoven and I get Mozart and we party like it’s 1835.

Anyways, I spent most of this evening trying not to get drunk but then getting sort of drunk because bar management was demanding I dance on the bar. Eventually, I gave in because I was paying to get 10 people drunk and the drinks would be comped if I slutted myself out all over the bar. I am so good at slutting it is sick. Above is a picture of me slutting around in a birdcage while dancing to Umbrellas by stupid Rhianna. That is a song I hate.

Sometimes, when drinking is much more than I can handle I throw the drink down the front of my shirt so that people can ask me why I am all sticky and wet and I can respond by saying, “I was milking myself.” Oh, back to the fact that I thought I liked this dude Paul last week and I spent the entire night trying to run into him and failing. Later on, someone told me he is not a writer, but an actor and now I am not sure I like him at all anymore except for the fact that he looks like the sort of guy that would force you to have sex.

I like to think of this photo as my vida-chica-loca stage. I like how my big hair appropriately flows backwards so that I can give the stink eye to the camera. I also like how my friend Christen appears to be impersonating Alfred Hitchcock.

Oh, after the shots my brother and his girlfriend had a huge fight and I got to sober up and try and solve that problem. In the middle of that Joey and I may have had a fight too where I got to tell her she wasn’t in love with her boyfriend, but with me. And I think that was super offensive to her or something, but I don’t really care since it is probably true.

I guess this is just a stupid picture of some rabbit window display. But it is swank how you can sort of see my reflection in the bottom right hand side.

After I took this photo the lady with the blonde hair ran after me because she thought I was trying to scam free picture of my kid or something on Peter Cottontail’s lap. Too bad I think that huge rabbit is fucking terrifying and needed a picture to commemorate the sheer terror that of the situation. I mean, people force their small children to take photos with that asshole and he probably has an erection the entire time and then later eats their souls.

Here are some photos of Gia and I taking Mugzy to the vet to get his dick checked on. Everything is going well in dicksville and he is doing way better and promises to try and avoid rough sex with the stucko wall from now on.

Here I am on the phone with Erin telling her about my dad having to give my dog a handjob and how I am generally unsympathetic about not rubbing my dog’s dick since he is my dog-son.