"That's got to be the worst role model since 'Sweep the leg.'"

Continued ...

After the one code-named "G" left last night, the one code-named "Super A" arrived. She greeted me by pinching my nipple since I was already really buzzed. Then I showed her some basic B-Boyin' floorwork. The one code-named "Choir Boy" popped inThe Hangover DVD.

I woke up today and went straight to the gym for calisthenics.

At the afternoon mass in Church, the jackoffable chick who helps serve Communion was there. She's renewed in my database. I always stare deeply into her eyes as she says to me, "Body of Christ." In a hypothetical situation, it's like she'd be saying that to my abdominal muscles, since I imagine in real life Jesus must've been ripped.

At the mall, the Adele look-alike was working at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth. I had stopped mentioning her to avoid repetitiveness since she was there almost everyday. But today it's worth mentioning since I haven't seen her in a week. Her once regular brown hair is now darker brown. She's renewed in my database.

The jackoffable white chick at Waba Teriyaki Grill dyed her hair dark brown. Yuck. The blond hair went well with her complexion. I wouldn't even have recognized her if it weren't for the star tattoos on her front shoulders. Oh well, I guess I'd still hit it.

Mommy and I ate dinner at Outback Steakhouse. The hostess, who resembles that one pornstar whose name I've been too lazy to look up, was there today. She looked so in charge while training a new employee. As I walked by her, I made sure no one was looking and discretely started drive-by jerking. And then when mommy and I were seated, the hostess brought us menus saying, "I'm sorry they didn't bring you any menus." She exchanged words with me! That's, like, verbal sex!

Mommy's favorite waitress, Lindsay, was working as well. The jagged cuts in her hair blend better now. And it's blonder rather than redder. She's renewed in my database.

There's always a chick who makes those fancy shapes out of balloons working there. But this time, holy crap, this one was actually attractive for a change. "Would you like some balloons todaaay?" she asked us in a girl scout's soliciting tone of voice where the last syllable extended and went high pitch. "You never know," she explained herself when we declined. This balloon chick resembled Amanda Seyfried, but I actually like her better than Seyfried. She's so in the database.

Afterward, mommy went home, but I went to Pinkberry to try out the new flavor: Peanut butter topped with jelly, some kind of crunchy stuff to help emulate the PB&J taste and mochi. I meant to say size "mini," but got it in the larger (paradoxically) "small." Oh well, it was good.