Damn, has Hooks' (my slutty yet previously svelte neighbor downstairs) gotten HUUUUUUGE. I mean, sure, I'm certainly not the most lithe specimen these days, but bitch should NOT be wearing sweatpants with elastic at the ankle. Holy shit. God help her if she's using her anal beads these days because them things is going to get lost up in there, is all I'm saying.

So you know how I tout the whole drinking water along with mass quantities of alcohol as keeping one headache-free after a night out? Yeah, that means you should probably also drink a lot more water during normal business hours; the ol' melon was throbbing unpleasantly this morning. Pair that with the boys playing "Attack Mommy's arm as if we're in Commando training," and you've got one fairly puffy broad who looks like she couldn't get the needle in. Just the same, last night was a good time. Still not a fan of going out by myself and likely won't do it again if I can help it, but I didn't die or anything, and I was surrounded by people I like. And I'm still totally cheesing over Opie and his girl -- it's kinda like I wanna squish 'em or something, but not in that "Ok, y'all are making me want to stab you in the eye with my pen" kind of way. I admit it: That kind of happiness makes me happy, too. Or maybe it's because Opie said he thinks I'm witty, which I think he was just drunk, but you know, we take our victories where we can, right!?

Oh, and our version of Creepy McCreeperson didn't fail to disappoint, either. Dude, you MUST thin out that Hipster mess on your head; if you have to use THAT MUCH gel to get it to lay down, it ain't working. Seriously.