La Femme D’Argent

old friend steve-o in town for work hooks his ass up with a penthouse suite at the castle, fuck yeah on my way over before the ice even has a chance to sweat.

brace yourselves to be bored vicariously via tedious photos and desperate captions.

i know steve through that guy i used to get with. haven’t seen steve since before the breakup heard ’round the world. feels like yesterday, feels like forever.

we hired a hooker.

if this is a penthouse suite then what the crap do the normal rooms look like?

lady gaga making us nervous. brit awards were on last nite. everyone was on drugs!

i was going to order pizza pizza then i realised duhh i’m in a hotel.

never impressed by hotel food. it’s like after they make it they send it through a make it shittier contraption on its way up to you.

be careful now you might have fun.

i got’cher fun right here.

look how pacified i am i miss tv so much. do you like my new hat? i should wear it to kilgour’s they’re habs fans over there.

fil is smiling because meredith said she told her mom a street joke he blogged. street jokes are what comedians refer to commoner’s jokes by that ‘oft get retold. what arrogant little tits eh? here’s a street joke, it’s me braining you.

no tip, you left your shirt on.

dreamer eyelashes. lady gaga made me state that if i were to ever host a raymi party with hired good looking chicks milling about for some reason, i’d make them have white feather eyelashes.

bad subject, good lighting.

was into the light square reflection in my pupils though i’m into everything so what else is new? nothing.

aaaaaaah-dorable oh shut up over there.

two can play at this.

man gossip is loads gayer than girl gossip and by gayer i mean boring and by boring i mean heard this story ten times already.

i’m so fucking fat right now. no really, my period is super duper late. i think it’s trying to align with all the new bitches’s in my life, my insane sleep schedule, perpetual stress and awful diet. i even took a preggo test yesterday to be sure and boy what fun those three waiting minutes were. i think it might be time to finally swap out my iud for a new one before i become infertile or lose my period forever?

yoga time.

forget what this one’s called, haven’t wii fitted in awhile. the spine stretching blood rush to head black out inducing no dignity neck paralyzer?

time for obliques. it’s the plank. well it was until some asshole decided to slam me into the bed. that wasn’t supposed to come off as sexy as it just did.

hold this for as long as possible. both sides. a good thirty seconds per is fine. don’t do it on a soft bed cloud though you’ll just crumple into it.

try for twenty seconds then you wimp.

beatrix potter clock awwwwww.

subtle refill motivator.

trying to scare fat americans into starvation. can you follow it up with something on uggs and crocs and jogging pants please?

you’ve aged well.

party down.

time to go go.

oh stop it liars you love the attention. you are full of bull shit covered in dog shit wrapped in horse shit rolled in elephant dung etc etc and so on.

and see, what we have here is honesty. refreshing, ain’t it.

bye bye thanks for making me feel poor and for making meredith feel like pretty woman. then we went to 7-11 for taquitos (bad new intro to uh oh) candy and chips, inhaled everything over a brew at the done right then called her a nite.

lamer pics what didn’t make the cut can be found here.