oh andrew... andrew, andrew, andrew. my weekend was great. i hope yours was too. sorry i'm so late in getting back to you. since my eagles aren't playing, i'm not so pumped about the superbowl. but i'm sure it'll be fab.
so. andrew. this is a joke, right? i mean you're setting me up. you didn't really think we'd go out did you? you were expecting this response, that's why you wrote about the superbowl isn't it?
ok, my favorite thing to do is check-in to a hotel on a random weekend to escape my house and indulge in room service and watch pay-per-view. it's pretty much that or luxuriate in a fabulous suite at a five star hotel in some chic city around the world. that would be my perfect vacation. your perfect vacation is "the family cabin northwest of yosemite. electricity is from a generator and water from a stream with over 50 acres of pristine wilderness, the privacy and seclusion heightens the appreciation for the spectacular nature surrounding the cabin."
50 acres from electricity or running water? that's a long ass haul. dude. where do you take a shit? cuz i don't do that little hut covering a hole in the ground.
andrew, i think we're cut from a different cloth. mine might be toille and yours might be brown jersey. and while mine got cut into a corseted gown, yours was unfortunately cut into a pair of clingy elvis pants. that are brown. remember my dress is toille. and it's fortunate that yours are brown because when you poop in your little hole in the ground you won't have to wipe. see, there's an upside to everything. :)
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yes, i'm bitchy. that's why i write this blog. haven't you figured it out?
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