It was late, the glitter eyeshadow was wearing

It was late, the glitter eyeshadow was wearing off, my feet were killing me from the platform furry boots and going to IHop sounded like a perfect way to end this horrid night. My

wing man was still inside the bar when I got into the taxi. With mixed feelings of defeat and future regret I said, "IHop please." The cab driver complemented my eye shadow and we

discussed how sad looking the color purple is (the actual color, not the movie) and how unprofessional the iHop hostess tends to be. Hopping from the taxi I broke my heal and my

face since, it caused me to fall forward and face plant on the sidewalk. So, much for Jimmy Choo being worth gazillions his shoes are crap and they definitely were not making me

feel sexy sprawled all over the sidewalk with my face in the gutter. Laboutins! I feel as sexy as a pig bung sausage wearing Laboutins because I have to hold onto walls and furnit

ure to get to the bedroom where my lover prepared a romantic picnic for just the three of us. Teetering on my Laboutins, I dangled the fried calmari pig bung, still feeling sexy...

with my stretch marks that look like splotches of blueberry pudding, I fondled my varicose veins sexily and flicked my tongue under my yellow dentures to get

repulsive though. That, I could not do. I said "Look gramps, put on this tee shirt or the deal's off." He said "No, put this bag on your head. You'll be fine. I'll pay double." The

Pokemon League stopped by that hour. It turned out Gramps and I were both right for once. They asked me never to remove the bag again. Gramps agreed before I could speak.