totally wasted

I got so fucked up yesterday.

First, I got really stoned and went for a long hike. Came home, got more stoned.

Took a shower, got dressed, went to super-fun Hollywood party. Started drinking.

Walked by an amazingly gorgeous girl that looked way too much like the one that got away (the college years). Incredibly, she smiled at me. Being as fucked up as I was, by the time what had just happened registered, it was too late.

"Whatever," she sneered to a friend as I passed by. Epic fail much? Yup, that would be meeeee. Fuck. Story of my fucking life.

Ran into an old friend that I spent the past few years hating intensely. Never, ever mix friendships with money/livelihood. Just don't do it.

But enough years have passed that I just don't give a fuck anymore. Plus I've kind of got it going on, and this poor shlub is stuck in one shitty position now. Is karma a bitch? A harsh mistress, at least.

The most amazing thing about yesterday? I'm pretty sure I did not do a single line of cocaine. Whoa.

Listened to really good music from really good DJs.

Went out to my car and smoked more pot. Came back to the party and drank more.

Got totally fucking wasted.

Finally had enough fun (well, the DJ I liked the best was over, and I'd been there for like 4 hours or something).

Drunk-drove my ass home. Stopped at KFC on the way. Michael Jackson was right.

Woke up to find a full bucket of chicken in my fridge this morning. Today is a good day.

Be your own hero

I’m drunk. But that’s OK.

I went over to Wild Card’s place tonight.

We drank lots of wine and talked about music and relationships and sex and career and family and so much more.

We smoked a really potent joint made of some strain of OG Kush that’s fucking amazing. So stoned.

Of course I had to whip out the blow. She was shocked but dove right in and hovered up a line like nobody’s business.

But our connection is strictly business. Combined, the two of us could create intellectual properties that everyone would know about and people at your job would talk about online and even more people would buy t-shirts and coffee mugs commemorating said property. Her and I could do that.

I also think we could have mind-blowing, toe-curling sex together. She’s not there yet, and probably never will be. But that’s OK. I’m down to take the money and find myself some real freaky deaks to enjoy it with.

Thangs are about to get real interesting, peoples.

Like, really.

PS: I must have really laid it down last night. The ex that I plowed has been sending me text after text saying how she wants more more more. Let’s see, fuck a sexy lil 20-something six ways from sideways whenever I see fit?

Yeah, that works for me.

Beautiful people

Sometimes being around excessively beautiful people makes me happy. Other times it makes me sad.

There are occasions when I feel beautiful. It has been known to happen.

But on Saturday I went to a party where everyone was so fucking gorgeous it make me feel even more self-conscious than usual.

I know it probably sounds stupid, but I’m just being honest.

There’s nothing worse than standing with a group of gorgeous women oohing and aaahing over the various hot dudes at a party--and you're not one of them

I just got terrifically drunk and ate my first piece of fried chicken in years. Fuck it.

The kindness of strangers

I’m so fucking drunk right now I can’t even tell you. Jesus. Endless glasses of top-shelf bourbon have knocked me right on my ass. That’s what I get for borrowing xTx’s pants before a night out.

Tonight should have been completely fucked. I pissed a particular girl off to no end. She basically told me to fuck off and leave her alone. I crossed the line and she wasn’t having any of it.

I found myself at a bar in L.A. Well, Culver City if we’re being technical. I sat down and ordered a beer. A kind of cute babe with really curly hair started talking to me. If she wasn’t with a guy she referred to as her boyfriend, I would’ve sworn she was hitting on me. I think her boyfriend would wholeheartedly agree with that estimation.

Her and I talked about work and Michael Jackson and cocaine. She was most interesting. If she wasn’t with a man I would have absolutely tried to hook up with her.

When I finally let it be known that I was having issues with a woman, she was all ears. She listened intently to my tale of woe, and how I completely fucked things up with a girl tonight.

She asked me if I’d like her help. I said of course. She said give me your phone. I gave her my phone. She typed the most basic, straightforward message to the girl and pressed send.

Trust me she said. Not three minutes later, my phone buzzed in response. The girl would come meet me at the bar.

I looked at my new friend with a newfound respect. Now I REALLY wanted to make out with her.

The girl showed up. She was happy to see me. We made out and I grabbed her boobs under her dress (no bra—hello).

We made out in her car for a while. Then she had to leave.

Call me, she said with a wink before speeding off.

I stumbled drunkenly to my car. Once inside, I did a big bump of coke for the ride home.

Now I’m here.

And all I want to do is fuck the living daylights out of my new curly-haired friend. Or at least lick her pussy until she comes a couple of times. It’s the least I can do.

Friday nights are the shit. I need to take advantage of them more than I do.

OK, time to smoke a bowl, jerk off to something hot and naaaaasty and go to sleep.

It’s the weekend, y’all. Hells to the yeah.

Oh shit—and Anna Paquin is on Jimmy Fallon tonight. Bring it on, baby. Bring that shit on.

If buzzed driving is drunk driving, I did some major league drunk driving tonight

I went to a party in Hollywood today. I got drunk as fuck. I looked at all sorts of hot-ass bitches. There was this one fat girl. Her name was Nicole. She was a big one, even bigger than the kind of big girls that I like. But she owned her largeness in such a way that it was so fucking sexy. I know it's a cliché that black dudes like big white chicks. So the fuck what--big-ass white chicks know how to own that shit and make it hot. Nicole, if you give me the chance, I'll knock your socks off with good loving. You won't be sorry.