...Aand, I'm stoned

...off some dank medicinal shit. Briscoe, you would love this stuff. Smells like buttered popcorn, tastes like Mary Jane's snatch. I've been getting it from this medicinal dispensery called the KushMart. And they also have hash, which is soooo choice.

Not sure what the rest of you think about this blog. Blogspot.com is pussy-weak, but I suppose this has already begun, so no turning back? If anyone wants to post or change the template or anything, just sign in using the LDBP email account. Hope to see more posts than just Q and myself, because then the blog has no credibility.

Tonight is Jeff's joint birthday party with some half-asian chick who is cravin' some diiiiick. You might remember him as my friend from Peoria who has been living out in L.A. for the past two years. Some of you might remember him as a strange bearded abductor who took yours truly away (kidding). This birthday babe, Aisha the Half-Asian (I wonder if her father thought that a name like "Aisha" would make her sound more Asian? And if so, when did he devise this plan? What trimester was it in? Was it pre-conception that he had always wanted a 51% Asian daughter; and despite what he viewed as shortcomings racially, devised a plan to bag a 100% Asian bird, then name his first born daughter something Asian-sounding like Aisha?) this birthday babe, she chose a pajama-theme. So, I'll report on the number of morally-bankrupt girls that show up only with lingerie, and how many of them get into the pool with it on. My figures will be very accurate, as I will be keeping a close eye on them.

I'll be wearing some sort of gold and black floral smoking jacket I bought at a vintage store, the Buffalo Exchange, in Chicago. Slippers, silk pajama pants, etc. The plan is to not get too drunk early, but I can get hammered late because I live next door. So, I've got that going for me, which is nice. In general, the nightlife has been pretty righteous.

Not sure when I'll be returning, too early to tell. If I return soon it means that I was a total bozo with my cash flow and didn't get on my game like $it Mon Mil. But maybe I can whore myself out, it seems to be a popular choice of career here. I could whore myself out to a thousand fat chicks for 50 bucks a piece, or 50 really fat chicks for 1000 bucks a piece... 


Hamilton

...Aand, I'm naked

I figured I'd start this off, because from the looks of it (6 views) most people clicked on Ryan's link, looked at the page and continued living their lives. I however, don't currently have a life and thus have the time to sit down and explain to you all something about other things. I'm not actually naked right now, but only a thin piece of silk is separating my butthole from Kelly's pillows - I decided to fart on Greg and Kelly's pillows because this morning they woke me up while re-enacting scenes from last nights Curb and giggling like little school girls. I was like, hey, its 7AM and I have to decide whether or not to get out of bed in three hours.

So yeah, I recently moved into the Briscolecki residence. It's been pretty sweet, but kind of boring. I'm sort of looking for a job, and sort of watching bits and pieces of Despicable Me everyday, and sort of masturbating in every corner of the apartment (it started out as every room, but there's only like 7 distinct rooms here, so come on, knocked that out in like three hours). I'm also taking a class at Second City, which is great and funny and motivating me to not let my brain waste away - but I'm also convinced that they have ingeniously monetized a way to lead desperate people that are kind of funny into thinking they have a future "writing" for "showbiz." But what the heck do I know, you know? There are also a lot of improv-y people there - you know those people that, like, wear "Geology Rocks" shirts and say things like "Uh well, I prefer long form comedy sketches, it's what I did in college, and because you know the joke is able to really evolve" while I quietly see how long I can hold my breath before passing out.

Anyway writing this has made me realized I need to go do something. Like eat, or poop, or go outside. I'll leave you with my typical daily to-do list:

1. Wake up (on deflated air mattress).

2. Think about sleeping more.

3. Stare at ceiling.

4. Walk into kitchen.

5. Walk into TV room.

6. Walk back into bedroom.

7. Forget why walked into bedroom, walk back into TV room.

8. Channel surf for 10 minutes.

9. Play a word or five with friends

10. Repeat steps 3-9 for 4 hours.

11. Remember that I had walked into my room to get my computer so I could look for jobs or do something on the internet that would make me feel like I had done something.

12. Go get computer.

13. Get on Craigslist.

14. Get angry at Craigslist because all the jobs require something I don't have, like skills or experience or minimum time commitments.

15. Wait for Kelly or Greg to get home like an abandoned puppy or beaten housewife.

16. Eat dinner and watch Greg and Kelly play 100 games of FIFA.

17. Spy on the neighbors before falling asleep.

Yours truly,

Quinn