I didn't blog yesterday, and supposedly I have to blog everyday because of this NaBlahBlah thing. My dumbass life coach is probably going to be mad at me.

But it's not my fault. I swear.

Have you ever woken up, looked up at the ceiling, and thought, "Um, that's not my ceiling. Where am I?" That's what happened this morning.

I'm not going to bore you people with all the grisly details that led up to that point, but let me just say that they include a bottle of Jose Cuervo, a UPS uniform, two tickets to Foxy Boxing, some E from Dr. Phil, my dealer, and a run-in with Stedman.

Ugh. And I still smell like Stedman.