Were was I? As a part of my intense training regimen, which lately has consisted primarily of my eating an ungodly amount of Maccas, well add to the mix alcohol. Beer belly here I come, but really my abs are irrevocably ripped. What is it like to be fat? I've always wondered. I'm incredibly proud of myself, yesterday I lay comatose for almost 24 hours after an all nighter on Friday. Every minute movement on my part triggered an involuntary gag reflex. Total alcholic reversal was upon me, never cross the streams or mix drinks (if anyone can pick this bastardized reference, I will buy you a jug). What did I imbibe on my way to halcyon bliss? Everything. I never spewed though, I want you to know this.
Everyone has weird fetishes. I've got a mad crush at the moment. Her name's Lauren, like me except I'm Loren. Crazy eh. It's like dangerously close to fucking myself. Anyway, she works at Woolies a super market type establishment. Wouldn't it be cool if I had a daughter and called her Loren jnr. Holy Shit. I just blew my mind. I've seen Lauren like 3 times, I was intrigued at first, but by the third strike I was out. She was wearing a ribbon in her hair. A full grown woman, wearing a ribbon, who does that anymore? I think I'm in love. Next time I see her, she better be ready, because I'll be bringing my A-game, and this isn't even like a predatory evolutionary throw back thing. I respect beauty and bow down to greatness. Don't hate appreciate.
Well, I warmed you up with that so I could tell you this... I'm a recovering straight edge loser, like I said Friday night. On it. Out there. This Lauren situation has been going on for a week. Speaking of "the Situation", I got way out of hand, drunk as a mother fucker. I was flashing my abs left right center, everywhere. Talking smack, slobbering uncontrollably. How I didn't get booted out of the club I'll never know. Somebody make sure I never watch Jersey Shore ever again. I have an eclectic collection of interests, I like pokemon and James Joyce, WWE and Wagner. Oh and I like Laurens, so who do I meet while I'm doing my boulevardier thang, not my delicate flower who's working hard for the money, but some other Lauren, who was hot and 19. Close enough. I was completely horsed by that point. I did inappropriate things to her, (but don't worry I didn't deflower her, just made sure she got home safe). I don't know if there's any actual moral to this story.
Tomorrow I'm going shopping at Woolies.