Right now, if I were a cartoon, I'd be that sleazy wolf whose tongue rolls down the block and eyes pop out of his skull every time a busty blonde nurse walks by and this burst is accompanied by an "AHHH-OOOO-GA" sound. I am trying to hide my little, red, glittery devil horns and tail that keep slowly appearing (not literally...only in my cartoon world) so I don't give myself away. A bad case of Spring Fever has made me mischievious and after a pit stop at the local (Un)Planned Parenthood, I am armed, dangerous, and ready to make out (so that's what the kids are calling it these days).
Making it in to work today was rough and I was actually sporting more pain than yesterday but I was expecting gifts and there's no better reason to drag your broken bones out of bed than for presents! Miss Phoebe Bean not only bought me a necklace shaped like a bowling bag (I'd rather be bowling...it's true), but I also scored a spider necklace that says "Arana" and a book entitled The Action Heronine's Handbook: How to Win a Catfight, Drink Someone Under the Table, Choke a Man with Your Bare Thighs, and Dozens of Other TV and Movie Skills.
This book couldn't have come at a better time as my drinking contest with Kenny is fastly approaching. I don't know what the stakes are but I've lost enough this year. I am determined to score that blue ribbon...there had BETTER be a ribbon! However, I'm not sure I can really incorporate a shot of 151 into an evening routine of 3 shots (I guess this is my new routine) as the book suggests. It's going to be interesting. At least I know that the gauges of drunkenness are euphoria, excitement, confusion, stupor, coma, and death. I'd like to avoid coma and death. Looks like I better go buy a bottle of 151!!
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