Cursed, cursed beauty!

I was at a bar awhile ago, and my date went up to get us new drinks; I took this as an opportunity to skulk outside and bum a cigarette. Because I didn't know anyone else who was on the patio, I stood in the corner looking down at my phone (I was trying to text my friend to let her know how things were going).

Apparently when I'm texting I look ridiculously angry and/or suicidal because the next thing I knew a woman who looked like a 6'1 Katy Perry had my face in her ample chest cooing, "Oh babydoll, what's wrong? Are you okay?!"

Well I hate Katy Perry, but I've also had my faced shoved into worse body parts than a pair of perfumy DD's when I've been drinking so I just laughed it off and told her that it's just the way my face is put together that makes me look so desperately unhappy. True story. She didn't believe me though, so she took a seat on the bench in front of me and pressed for details about my family life.

My date came back a short while later and looked a bit turned on, if not a little confused by my newfound ability to attract drunk amazon women with huge tits. She went skipping off into the corner after he showed up (and she'd assessed that he didn't look TOO creepy), but I saw her again before the night was through.

Turns out she was there on a date with one of the people I went to high school with, and she was celebrating her recent accomplishment of receiving her doctorate in functional psychology.

Moral of the story, don't practice your profession at bars unless you're a bartender or gynocologist. You just look silly.

Allo Poppet!

New space vs. Myspace
Assbook vs. Facebook
Litter vs. Twitter

The possibilities are endless.

love,