Hey, here's this creepy gingerbread thing we found just sitting at the bar where we met the kilt wearing boys.
So, this is my 500th post on this here blog and I don't really have much to say. You'd have thought I would have saved something monumental, but I got nuthin'.
I went to see my friend Ed Gray play at the Picador tonight and that was cool. My girl crush might come into town tomorrow night and that's the coolest. I suppose I could put a text conversation I had on here from last Friday night. I'll warn you first that's it's completely wrong and inappropriate and so if you're easily offended, you probably won't want to read on. If you're not, it's just kind of ridiculous. I won't put the names of anyone involved on here either. Oh, and don't be surprised when it sounds like two 10 year olds. Remember, one of them is me.
Me: How's uranus?
Other Texter: My turd cutter is just fine thank you.
Me: Our friend (the person who was sitting next to me at the bar) is grossed out by the term turd cutter.
Other Texter: Our friend needs to get her shit pushed in.
Me: What? Do you mean ass fucked?
Other Texter: Excuse me. Our friend needs to have anal intercourse.
Me: Thanks for clearing that up.
See what I mean? Wrong, bad, immature and perfect for my 500th post. I think it sums up my blog nicely, don't you?