So, visiting two of my bestest of best buds  kuronoenyo and  isstmich and we went to cattlemens where my god the bed frickin primeribs ever are served *drool* was a grrrreat night complete with racist jokes and raunchy stories, and some tales of chinples and wimmen menstrauls... anyway for dessert we each got pan cookies. Chocolate chip cookies topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream and chocolate drizzle. Oh murr! She brought us extra spoons incase we wanted to share our six inch ice cream covered treats. I was like "aaw she thinks were gonna share she's so cute."

With horrid belly aches we return home. I demand cuddles, because im a bitch that way, and we watch the medallion. Now tis bedtime and fuck that cookie is having a war with that prime rib... not to mention the uterus is boxing my stomach. Its aleady told me "ha good luck sleeping bitch. I can go ALL night." Why can't a man tell me that?.

Good night FA. Tomorrow, the bitch from the blackest pit of hell may rise, and there's no chocolate to shut her up. Lol. In the words of scar "run, run away and never return"