HORNYMEGANFOX

The next morning, I remember waking up on Ocean Blvd and smelling like Nikki Hilton. Not that, “DAMN she smells good” smell, but yet instead that “I know the bitch is famous, but she should still wash her ass” smell. I mean, I KNOW I was across the street from the Sushi spot and RIGHT next to the Ocean, BUT yuck! Zak arose from his drunken slumber, grabbed the half smoked blunt off the Barvo Condom box, took the lighter out of his left pocket and lit the wrong end.

“I’m a little drunk still,” Zak ensured me.

As if I didn’t know. We both still wreaked of liquor, not to mention my shirt had a VOMITary manslaughter stain on the chest and left arm and the back had dried up splooge on the collar. What a weird night we must’ve had. I didn’t remember shit. I was pretty sure we banged the Hilton Sisters, but I wouldn’t venture to throw the H.I.V. (h.i.v. means positive, sure, no doubt about it, FACT) STAMP of APPROVAL on it or anything.

“Yes, we did bang the Hilton Sisters,” Zak said. “Yes, you did grab Megan Fox’s ass at the club. Yes, you barfed all over your shirt and yes it does smell like dirty vijay jay in here.”

Zak and I have this weird way of answering one another’s unasked questions. THAT was a perfect example. Homie answered every drunken question reshaping my brain as we spoke. Now that that shit was out of the way, how do we get clean, get food and more importantly… HOW DO I BANG MEGAN FOX? Nikki and Paris.. “It’s Cool” but I wanted the “Box of Fox” and I was going to have it. I could still visualize Megan from the night before. Black dress (laced at the breast line SO somewhat see through), hair in a wavy pony tail (that pull my hair and bang me kinda pony tail), black heels ( so tall I could probably stab Brian Boston Bean in the artery with it) and perfect jewelry accenting all her key ingredients. MAN I LOVE MEGAN FOX!

“Today Zak.. I will BANG MEGAN FOX,” I shouted as I hit the blunt so hard I threw up AGAIN..

I got up, threw on my backpack, grabbed my I-POD, my gym clothes, wiped the vomit off my left hand and arm and headed down Santa Monica Blvd. I had no idea if I wanted coffee (from Coffee Bean.. THE BEST COFFEE SHOP, EVER) or if I wanted to head straight to they gym. (Equinox. GREAT VIBE, SEXY GIRLZ, ETC) I chose NEITHER. I headed through the Promenade towards the cigar store. I needed a Cigarillo immediately. I knew if I got eerrffed (that’s high for the dummiez), I’d feel less nauseated and I wouldn’t care that I wreaked of liquor OR the Gyro I yacked on myself. Just as I was approaching Habib’s (any convenient store, gas station 7-Eleven type of place), I turned the corner, tripped over a blind bum and fell on my face.

I-POD, gym bag, sun glasses and sac of eerrff went everywhere. Not to mention, I threw up AGAIN. What a fucked up start to the day. I gathered my things, took my sunglasses and gym bag BACK from the bum (fucker tried to steal my shit), looked to my left and saw………. Brian Boston Bean. 1/2 of me wanted to run up to him and punch him in the genitals (because I knew who he laid next to last night), but the other 1/2 was full of excitement because it could only mean one thing…. MEGAN FOX WAS CLOSE BY.. TODAY WILL BE MY DAY! I WILL BANG MEGAN FOX..