Turtle Poking Out

In lieu of taking the dump I desperately need to take, I will blog. Someone else is in the handicapped stall, aka "shitter" and I must ride it out for a bit. Hopefully the dump will not crawl back up my donut side.

At a splendid bar in ABC City (Doc Holliday's), a barely legal lesbian of the dykey variety hit on me last night in front of my semi-significant-other the Ohioan, hereafter to be referred to as Adam Sandler. Then, while at Lucky Cheng's where Adam Sandler and hot friend Texas Matt did an amazing rendition of Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive," I managed to somehow offend a trannie. I told her she had great boobs and that somehow made me an asshole. I always thought that, as a female, I could be friends with anyone: your gay women, your gay men, your trannies, poodles of all sizes . . in reality, not so much. Then I went to the bathroom and Adam Sandler said "my girlfriend thinks you're hot" and we got two free beers. Girlfriend. Huh. Hadn't counted on that one.

Tonight I meet a midget. Okay, that fart is gonna stink up the chair for a while.