I’m going to invent a new drink called “My Number” and its going to be something really fucking retarded and gross like Malibu and Mountain Dew and then when I walk up to someone at my bar and I say “What can I get you?” and then they say “your number.” I will just get them the Mt. Dew and Malibu and say OKAY $9 PLEASE.
If you want my number you kind of have to tip me. Like a lot. Also a good pickup line is not “I want to make love to you.” because that. is just not. even kind of attractive. when you yell it across a bar over loud music. And also pickup lines like that do not work on me because things that work on me are top secret like pretty much so top secret and ridiculous that I don’t even know them.
Like tonight I heard Sublime and remembered that I always want to fuck guys who speak Spanish. Also if you want to speak Spanish to me and have me think its hot then you have to be white because if you learned it from your mom or whatever then its just not as special.
Tonight was lame except the show COPS was outside with an ambulance and firetruck and everything. Then the ambulance guys took out the strecher and I was like ALLRIGHT SOMEONE DIED! I’m not kidding I was GIDDY. But then they came back with the empty stretcher and I was like THANKS A LOT PARAMEDICS! I mean I wanted to see a body and have some exciting night to blog about or whatever but then those dickshits had to go SAVE the guy. Such a disappointment. I mean really.
But this is fucking hilarious:
This has been a post from my former blog from when I was cooler. Or at lease when I was younger Viva La Crap!