What the hell?

Happy Happy 'ween

Mujaji on her first leash walk

George really IS a nice guy. My brother purchased the shirt he's wearing. And yes, I've already yelled at him for his lack of taste. And while I'm on my soap box, George totally gets it. And I don't mean it in the Scient sort of way. George understands what kind of a drunk b*tch his daughter is. When I snuck out to 'hide' the empties from tonight he said, and i quote,"You can tell her I bought the beer. ALL of it." So, you see, he understands that his daughter's need to go on a bar crawl tonight is well, ridiculous. And he also said," She better not start any of her *shite* tonight." As in - the crap that flows from her mouth when she comes home loaded. She's a mean drunk.

Why can't she be like me?? (This was the result of five dollars. Cut me some slack. The three to five year old group was impressed. Or maybe they liked my tootsie rolls.) Ridding myself of the cape, I look retarded with piggy tails.

And there's more. But you know what? I'm pooped. Nite nite.

posted by irene @ 11/01/2002 02:08:00 AM