...and I thought, for the briefest of moments, that there might be pictures of someone trying to stop me from letting girls hit on me through my blog back in 2006. Then I remembered that nobody intervened and I now have a story titled "Fatty McLiarson: A Hefty Catfisher" that I can someday tell my kids.
Then I thought that maybe there would be pictures of someone stopping me from taking the Italian Stallion home from the Bash at the Boathouse back in or around 2007. Let's just say that upper thigh stubble is unbecoming of a lady and leave it at that. Turns out, again, that nobody intervened and I have a story titled "Sophia LorOHMYGODWHATHAVEIDONE?" to tell my kids.
Lucky bastards.
I could go on but alas, this post had nothing to do with me or my drunken exploits. That being said, I still got hit on by a D-List actress while partying at the Playboy Mansion. So, you know, it's not all bad.
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