MonkeyShine ***

Happy Hump Day!

Love by the Elevator!

The Miller Lite bandit LOVES to leave his empties in the ashtray before boarding the elevator.  I really want to meet this person… I feel we share similar beliefs and drinking philosophies.

Yeah, that’s what she screamed.

there’s some symbolism at play…

Is a sign really necessary?  Don’t catch the swine flu.

M: Gawd, first it was bird flu, now its the swine flu, what’s next butterfly flu?

Megan: Well, its not random, it has to do with the species (missy zones out) and the strand of bacterial (missy is thinking about Dunkin Donuts) and the thermonuclear (missy wants a bagel)…

PS - I could be dirty and elaborate about the depiction of the women using a tissue… but I wont.  Keeping it Clean.

Missy Does Montgomery County: I got hit on @ Court…  He gave me chocolate, he gave me his number, and promised never to make me wait.  Sexy Time.

Boston Quotes:

J: You’d rather die than suffer rug burn from an airbag?

M: I’ve had some pretty bad rug burn before.

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J: SOH CAH TOA

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M: That was the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever given my dog.

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J: But it was bad sex, and I think it was my fault

M: I’ve never had bad sex, its impossible, you mean it was mediocre?

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B: Missy, you should see this house! I’ve been drinking and driving… a pink scooter IN the house.  Miss you!

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M:  Oooh, you have artwork

Megan: Have you been drinking?

M: One would think that… but no

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J:  Was it casual dating or casual fucking?

M:  What’s the difference?

J: Well, with casual dating there is no sex

M:  Isn’t that called friendship?

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M: What was that?

J: You just hit a curb… again

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J: How is the hair?

M:  It’s blond… like Sisco blond.

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N: Oh, the  Pour House has breakfast?

UNISON:  YES.  Pumpkin Pancakes

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M: Can we go to a diner?

S:  Of Course!

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Megan:  We weren’t prepared to see see all that hair and all that orange tan-ness

M: Megan, you could tell me he had a 3rd eye and I would say, sigh, another eye for me to stare dreamily into.

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M:  So then I sent him a text that said, don’t send me texts

T:  Good job, and how are you feeling?

M:  Ok… I just wish he’d text me.

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