Craziness P-ersonified

I was all set to bitch about my 12 hour day--after I'd sworn off 12 hour days this year! But really it's just due to the fact that my life is so hard, I spent 3 hours at Simon LA over at the Sofitel Hotel. Which, by the way, is not as fancy a hotel as it wants to pretend it is. Expensive and trendy? Okay. But fancy? Fuck no. I'll go to the Bel Aire Hotel or the Beverly Hilton for "fancy," you overpriced, arrogant and quite dumpy hotel!

Back to my point: 12 hours!

Then I came home and Little Bull--winner of our last contest--had written about yesterday's glorious game and I just think that Eli Manning is the cutest little mouth breather on the planet, and I'd really love to have his babies if I could be guaranteed they wouldn't come out retarded, but I'll settle for just his jersey because this has officially become a run-on sentence and my brain has exploded.

But none of that is important because through LB I found us another blog that will definitely make you squirt coke through your nose, which burns like a bitch because coke should only go UP your nose, not OUT it, and there I go with another run on sentence.

Want to guess what drugs I'm on? Did I mention they serve cotton candy at Simon LA? Do you know that cotton candy is PURE FUCKING SUGAR and I'm still bouncing off the walls even though my lunch meeting ended 4 hours ago?

Go read My Crazy Roommate. It's really that good. Like a Super Bowl upset!

Confidential to Jack: I interpreted your text message to mean you would have taken the safe bet. Didn't your mama teach you to believe in the underdog? For shame!