Why Bernie Mac is staying at my house

Satan cat is going to eat my sisters dog. I know what you're thinking about this photo. But, fuck off. This is the best I can do being slightly hung over and still heavily sedated on pain killers. And, no. I am not a chronic pill head I actually have a legit prescription for them. I blew out my shoulder/neck on Sunday and had to go to the hospital and everything. Though the pain went away on Tuesday and it is now Saturday, I never feel the need to be wasteful.

Anyway, back to this piece of shit picture. I am dog sitting for the week for LaToya and Lazor when they waste their life savings in Vegas. They have a pug and it looks remarkably like Bernie Mac. He is actually pretty cute though, I only say that because I have a thing for big black men. Satan kitty wants to fuck his shit up though. I feel like I should be hosting some sort of dog/cat fight but last time I checked that is illegal and as a vegetarian I don't see how that would favor my whole love for animals thing.

Let's talk about something a little more important, my last twenty-four hours. If you judge me I will fucking derail on you. Just kidding. Sort of. I was quite productive and went to the laundromat which we discussed in my last post. I then rode my bike to Old Town Lansing in attempts to go to Bluesfest and then turned right back around because I realized I was way to drunk to be seen in public by people who probably weren't as shit wrecked as I was. So I went home and spent about fifty-seven minutes attempting to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I know, how hard is it to fry some fucking bread? The worst part is that I have a do it yourself grilled cheese maker. Which by the way, everyone should own. The only reason it took my this long was because I was also in the middle of a Gossip Girl marathon and I kept burning the shit.

I think I am the only one who spends a Friday night wasted watching Gossip Girl and burning grilled cheese. In my defense I was going to stumble to the bar but nobody would have talked to me even though I was looking quite fierce in my black sweatpants and Mickey Mouse sweatshirt that I cut the neck off of to make it look super cool and hipster. If I were to have a conversation with someone it would have probably ended up with me lieing about everything because that is what I do when I drink too much. I once told someone that I was tambourine player in an amazing folk band and we were about to tour the world with Mates of State.

Hands down, I am the BEST person to party with.

That is all, peace out bitches.