I am in Canada and that means that it is a long weekend, not that I deserve a long weekend because everyday feels like a weekend as is. That’s nothing to be jealous of, it basically means I am a waste of space. I run this site for a “living” and make no money doing it, but at least I don’t have to rock an alarm clock.

I went out for lunch with a friend of mine, one of those guys who lives in the gutter but has rich parents and is trying to make a point guys, you know lives on the street for 6 months, until his dad dies and he inherits the family business and wipes off his feces covered brow and puts on a suit and puts his Ivy league education to the test and turns daddy’s business into a multi-million dollar busines kind of guys.

Anyway, we end up a this trendy breakfast place where all these amazingly hot french girls in stylish outfits are eating…we sit at a table next to some busted up pick-up truck of a woman who keeps staring at our table and laughing like a lunatic. I start to feel awkward because of my social anxiety and hatred of freaks and decide to keep my eye on her….She starts to twitch like she’s getting punched in the fucking box, starts laughing again and then starts rubbing/scratching herself all over her white soiled jogging suit…After an hour of sitting next to her and she hasn’t taken a bite of her food, she stands up to walk out, and her whole back is covered in a red rash.

Normally rashes turn me on but this time I thought her scabies jumped onto me and for the last 3 days, I’ve been making my wife inspect.

Speaking of twitcy crackwhores with rashes….here’s a picture of Fergie from the cover of Oct. 19th Rolling Stone…..

Now you can wish me a Happy Thanksgiving and go fuck yourself. Cuddles….

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