HORNYMEGANFOX

I sprinted into the street and gathered my sac of trees. Yes, the sac of trees that got ran over by a bus, three minivans and a fat lady with a cart. Why she was in the street? I DON’T NOT, but she was. It smelled like tar, tire and fat roles, but it was the only tree I had left. My dealer was still sleeping and he lived in North Hollywood (NO-HO) which is somewhat of a far drive. Basically, if I didn’t save that eighth of trees, I was kcufed until the afternoon time. Weed dealer time, 9pm or so at best.

I walked into the Habib’s and ordered a 5 pack of grape Cigarillos. Habib noticed my sunglasses were crooked, my bag was dangling from my shoulder and my breath smelled like Nikki Hilton had a fight with Honky Love.

“Long night or did you get robbed in the alley,” Habib asked with the accent like that of the man with the red dot on his forehead. You know, Habib. (pronounced habeeeb)

“A little bit of both,” I whispered, trying not to get too close to him.

I knew what I felt like and looked like. I didn’t need reiteration from Habib’s stankin’ ass. Not to mention, I was in a hurry because I KNEW Megan was in the vicinity. She had to be. I sprinted outside and ran around the corner back into the Promenade. I searched left, I gwaked right. I jogged north toward Santa Monica Blvd and paused. I looked into Starbucks, No Megan. I walked over to the food court and looked McDonald’s, Subway and the Chinese spot I can’t pronounce for shit! No Megan. Where the kcuf was she? There is no way in the World Brian Boston Bean was in Santa Monica without the hottest woman in the Universe.. I searched the Promenade for 15 minutes, looking for those two assholes, but to no avail.. No Megan.

I figured getting eerrffed was the only thing to do. I walked back to the truck and twisted up a bleeder. Zak was laying in the truck, bouncing video from the day before. The tour of the Playboy Mansion. We received the ultimate happy ending there. The drinks @ Fred Segal with Chelsea “Lately” Handler. She’s our homie and I love to motorboat her boobs. This was all yesterday. Yes, yesterday. We’re borderline, the coolest human beings on…. EARTH, I guess. Yeah, EARTH!

“I’m going to the gym bro. For the second time, I mean. I need to shower and my balls are stuck to my leg from last night. I don’t know whether it’s Nikki or the fact I danced and sweated for 3 hours.”

Probably both, I thought to myself. Dapped Zak and was back on Ocean Blvd, walking toward Santa Monica Blvd. When I arrived @ Equinox, finally, Jason “Ari” Paulino was at the front desk. He’s a great friend of Zak and I. He pulled the ULTIMATE strings for us when we arrived in Santa Monica that intimidating first day. He swiped my card and gave me that “I know what you did last night, but we can’t talk about it now” look. Jason’s a completely different specimen at work. No eye contact! Handshakes, ONLY! Short conversation! Just the night before, we were… Well, I wont put him on blast. Moving on!

The Equinox locker room is one of the most comfortable, home warming locker rooms I’ve seen. I “YONESTLY” love that place. Next to LifeTime Fitness, it’s the best gym in the UNIVERSE. the whole UNIVERSE. Towels are clean, Showers are hot and NORMALLY everything is alright. Today was a different story. The locker room area was the biggest pigsty and smelled like forty five unshowered Habib’s. There were pubic hairs all over the sink area. No, not “face shaving pubes.” Those short, little curly pubes from some Caucasian dudes nut sac “pubes.” Today wasn’t my day. The Megan Fox God’s were DEFINITELY against me and I forgot my flippin’ I-Pod in This Thing. (our promo vehicle for the newbies and jack asses No I-Pod during my workout is like “wearing a condom during sex.” WHO DOES THAT??

There was NO WAY I was walking back to “This Thing.” I wanted to workout, shower, shave my balls, get dressed, get my coffee, smoke again and KEEP IT MOVIN.

“Fuck it, I’ll go workout,” I whispered to myself as I angrily walked towards the stairs which led me to the dreadful workout floor. Jason made eye contact with me again and rolled his eyes, seeming to disapprove the drunken slumber, but he understands. I’m a super star who smokes weed, gets drunk and bangs Megan Fox. He was just bitter because he loves Nikki Hilton and to find out she “may” have a certain scent to her private area made him ill, unfortunately.

I walked to barbell area to start with bench press. Every bench was taken. I went to the dumbbell section and thought I’d start with incline bench. No 30’s, 40’s or 50’s. What the kcuf is this? Now the Megan Fox God’s and the Workout Angels are both against me. I wanted to leave so badly, but nothing had gone right this morning so I WASN’T giving up on this one. I grabbed a medicine ball, lied down and started doing crunches. Who the kcuf starts their workout with crunches? The dude who came to the gym late, forgot his I-Pod and is too drunk to talk to normal humans. After 22 crunches, I got up, threw the medicine ball on the rack and said “Fuck it, I’m leavin.” I stumbled towards the water fountain to wash the dehydrated taste of sushi and Jim Beam from my mouth.

“Hey, aren’t you the boy who was @ Villa last night dancin’ you ass off ’til you puked in the parking lot,” a sexxy, low pitched voice said in my left ear.

I looked to my left and seven feet away from me, LOOKING RIGHT @ ME was none other than……. Megan “Foxy Megan” Fox. Showtime!!!

DISCLAIMER.. “This story is a COMPLETE act to practice my poetic license.” PLEASE DON’T TAKE IT SERIOUS, TRUE, FALSE or anything else. JUST READ IT AND LAUGH!! — B.YONEST