Brad Walsh

Ooh La Lit

There are a million pictures from last night that will end up on Party Junkies sometime this weekend, but here are a few that I like now. From Annex:

Ollie Bo Bollie:

Anna the Partyslayer:

Shannon & Jason:

In Transit to Lit…

Kendra, to whom I said “frickin” by accident, and she totally let it slide…

Um, also, I said “freakin” to Melissa probably four times in one long ass phone call a few days ago. I go through weird phases of involuntarily barking out stupid words, but I sure hope this isn’t a new trend. For three months in college it was “woof” whenever I was surprised while driving. That was certainly no fun.

Also, I will totally make apologies for this one because it’s the third time I’ve talked about her this month, but when I said the only thing on Pink’s new album that was worth listening to was “Cuz I Can,” I hadn’t listened past that track. Forget it, that one already went bad on me. “Fingers” and “Centerfold” are good. “Fingers” is actually good, and “Centerfold” is good for Pink. Okay, no more talk about Pink. I am not allowed. That was it.

No more Pink.

Also also, ladies, do not let this man inspect your breasts. He’s a phony! A great big phony!

How fucking stupid do you have to be to:
First: open the door to an old man who says he is giving door-to-door breast exams;
Second: let said old man in to give you said breast exam;
Third: allow old man to move from “breast exam” to “poke your vagina with no gloves on,” and
Fourth: call the sherriff while the old man is still in your house, and let him walk out the door while you’re on the damn phone?