She's totally cute and nice and I'm not sure what else she's been in that I've actually seen except that one teen movie she did with Freddie Prinze Jr. Yeah that's right, She's All That. You know you saw it too so SHUT UP.Next. Kim Kardashian. Famous for absolutely nothing but having a rich deceased father and a mom that remarried rich. Smart women. To some she may be famous for her fat ass.
Okay let me be the one to break it to you all, it's not that big. She's not that tall and probably a size 5 and all she probably does are a lot of assercizes to make her ass super toned. That is all. If I lost 20lbs and worked out I'd look just like her. Me and my fat assssssssssssssssssssss.I actually had the weekend off, yay. Unfortunately I was deathly ill on Saturday due to what could be an array of things...too much alcohol, something I ate, or a dirty homogay trying to drug me. So, my friend Ben is back in town, yay, so that means going out to gay bars and such. I never really went out in WeHo so I was like awesome sure! We headed out and our first stop was Fiesta Cantina for a margarita. Yummy. Then after man watching we went to The Abbey which I have really wanted to go to considering the only Abbey I've ever been too was the one in San Francisco and it's pretty different considering it's an Irish pub- I'm talking F.O.B. Irish men. Anywho, we had a snack and another drink and hung out. Met a cool dude and decided after awhile to go back to Silverlake and go to Akbar instead. At this point I'm nicely buzzed and having an awesome time.
We get back home and I'm ready to go to Akbar so we walk down the street and this is where my night goes all WRONG. I was fine, absolutely fine until I started drinking there. I think I may have had one or 2 gin and tonics. I danced some, chatted with an old school friend some, danced some more and was having a great time. Then I vaguely remember leaving, don't remember coming home, or walking into my room, or changing into my pjs...the only thing I remember is waking up being like wtf at vomit on my pillow case and sheet. I then looked into the trashcan, which had found its way next to my bed, and realized that I had thrown up in it. Really? I DON'T REMEMBER THAT. Cut to the morning when I wake up DYING. Head swirling and my stomach in the worst condition ever. Now, I'm not going to lie, I've drank way more and never been sick. I have had more, on an empty stomach, gotten sick but not to the extent of this SICKNESS. I couldn't move all day. I was bed ridden for most of the day except for the times I went to the porcelain throne or when I stepped outside to get some air. I couldn't even hold down water. It was a mess. I can't drink for at least a week or forever depending on my liver. I'm just like what the hell happened? Here are a few ideas- my body decided to lower my tolerance for alcohol thus giving me minor alcohol poisioning, I ate something fishy, literally that didn't agree with everything else in my stomach + booze, a gay man spiked my drink with the intention of making me his fag hag by blacking me out so he could steal me away to his gay boy wonderland....WHO KNOWS. All I know is that it was terrible and my stomach still doesn't feel as strong yet. Oh well
I finally got a haircut yesterday. I found this spot up the street (shameless plug for Refuge) and got an awesome haircut for a pretty decent price considering the time spent cutting it and the outcome. I'm pleased.
Right now I'm just thinking of jobs to look for unless the one I'm in starts paying out. Commission? What commission? I'm not getting any and haven't been for a month which means I'm getting checks smaller than an In n' Out worker. Yeah, that's right. I'd like to give a big FUCK YOU to all the skanks that return clothing. You know who you are, I see you, we all know who you are and avoid you all like the plague. The Returners. Those cheap bastards that wear clothes and return them. We know you wear them, it's so obvious, how do you not feel embarassed or ashamed. Especially all of you that return clothing purchased well over 6 months ago. You tasteless bastards are ruining my life. If you can't afford the clothes, don't buy them and return them months later and repeat. I'm in debt to my job because of you shameless cunts. And if you do wear them, since you have the tags cut off already, just wash them. I'm sick of smelling your night clubs, moth balls, B.O. and other filth that permeates that clothing that you shove in our faces to get your money back. DIE ALL OF YOU.
Happy Monday, Bitches!
