Went to a Christmas party last night, got pretty wasted. Struck up a conversation with girl early in the night with a body like Margot Robbie and the face of Lyle Lovitt. She was wearing a red dress with a sequin Santa hat on the front.
Just woke up and there are a couple half opened packs of rubbers on my bedroom floor, and so much sequin on my sheets, it looks like I hit her square in the chest with double-ought buckshot. Based on the condition of the rubbers, I wasn't in any condition to perform -- thank you Baby Jesus!
There's no phone number carved into my chest, so I guess that's a plus.
