Friends don’t let friends text drunk
In an ongoing effort to diminish my Bacardi belly and with my impending thirtieth birthday, I’ve added sit-ups back to my exercise routine…and now know precisely why I stopped doing them in the first place. Akin to some cruel form of medieval torture, nothing hurts more than working your stomach muscles. Thankfully, it has helped pay off a bit. Just need to keep up with it.
Speaking of my thirtieth, me and my bitches are heading out to see Kathy Griffin, who performs right on the day of. I’m very, very excited. I do hope she wins the Emmy for her show this year.
I saw a poster for a lost bird. I wanted to call the person and say, "Sweets, I think you ought give up the dream."
