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dear sweet jesus, please let the pounding head just stop.

Shaun took RSG (or now commonly known as hooker-ass-bitch) to the airport at 8 am because there was no way in God’s green earth i could have made it.

I have to take Pissy to the airport in…an hour and a fucking half. Shaun just walked through the door with two Starbucks coffee’s for us and said, “Goodnight girls…I’m going to bed now.”
Did I ever mention how Shaun isn’t the big party guy? Yeah, well buddy let me tell ya…ROCK STAR. He partied like a ROCK STAR with us. A rock star that doesn’t drink or smoke…but a ROCK STAR none the less.

Okay, it’s been an hour and half and venti Starbucks later and the hangover is still here. How long do these things last?

Every bone, muscle & hair follicle hurts.

and as Pissy would say, “OH HELL NO…THAT’S JUST AIN’T RIGHT.”

Captain Morgan is NOT my friend. I will just keep telling myself that as I drag myself through this day. Poor Shaun still has to go mow his parents lawn. (No Bucky that isn’t some kinky codeword)

Night Ya’all. Oh fuck, it’s only 10 fucking AM !!!!