Bachelor No. 3
Not all was lost though. Lots of other joy-inspiring things happened. For one, I got to spend time on the DWI Couch with my new date and Ian... who, by the way, smells really good.
There was laughing. I'm not laughing about my impending date.
I thought stuff. Here I'm thinking: He is very tall, Irish (enough) and may drink enough to find me attractive. Or is it the contrast between him and that other guy. Hmmm... oh fuck, is my thought bubble on? Somehow Ian had turned off my lavalier. How did he do that? He likes his bachelorettes quiet... no biggy.
Moving on...
I got to hang out with my girls. They're pretty, but they told me to pick No. 4. I knew there was no number 4. They are not very smart.
There was other stuff too. Heather Meyer was there to memorialize the event. There are no pictures of Heather. She took all of these pictures. Some she remembers, some she does not. She did not remember me meeting Randy Quaid. Cousin Eddy wanted to be a bachelor. I chose to hang out with his friend. This is Cousin Eddy.
Later on we played pool. Why is Kim's tongue sticking out all night. I wonder what that means?
They are fun. But I cannot sleep with them. Duh.
Lastly, this is Ian. I do not remember what he said that made me laugh. But this is my favorite picture. Hi, I'm Ian, I drink stuff. Wanna make out? No No, that wasn't it... shit.
3 comments:
Still so pissed that I missed this night. Still. So. Pissed.
Ian, you suck!!! Conan O’ Brien wannabee…thank heavens your pathetic show will never make it past Minneapolis -if you even have a following left by the end of the year;-)
Wow, you must have a lot of balls to post anonymously.
And I'm supposing you're chalk full of talent, right? Ian is a friend of mine, and although we don't see eye to eye on many things, he's full of talent and unlike your useless, ranting ass, will likely go somewhere.
So the next time you feel the need to write hateful shit on my blog have the mother humping spine to show yourself. Troll.
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