Okay, so Timmy didn't come to the party last night because he's got breast cancer. Yeah, right, breast cancer. He's the first male to ever have it (an early adopter, so to speak) and the doctors are baffled. I think (and as I'm right most of the time, know) that it happened because Timmy is such a chunky guy that he can burrow my favorite crack hookers BH.
But what am I writing about? This isn't about Timmy manboobs, this is about the party last night. And boy, was it a party. Only two of us (me and sam, the Venezuelan brunette double-d bimbo), but I was able to make her forget that we were one man short. I was afraid the cops would come knocking, because she screams and moans like there was no tomorrow! 50 bucks well spend.
Speaking of spend: Yes, she's a crack addict and will buy drugs from the cash and I'm mildly concerned about her health. It would be a crying shame if she died sniffing crack or swallowing joints. And she's the closest thing I have to a wife/girlfriend/hooker now.
Guess I have to do something about it. Maybe I'll lock her up in my basement, where Cherryl used to live.