The Counselor

It is indeed a pretty bad movie when the most interesting parts are Cameron Diaz's clothes. It was soooo sloow. The first hour was the script trying to make me like the characters. It didn't work. Hey Cameron Diaz got a boob job!! It looks good, yo. Her dresses. I would die to wear those.

Just the first chore on the list for the night. I'm sitting in the back seat with my girlies singing Kesha stuff.  Wait. Now it's Will.I.Am. I'm singing it opera style, of course. Across the border to Caesars for dinner and a few games of poker. We're staying over for the night. So no drinking for me. Maybe a little. Or I'll snore and I'm sleeping with two girls. Well five, but I called first dibs on the bed. 

Omg. I'm too old for this shit. 

Most ridiculous post ever. I wonder if I'll ever write a post that saves the world. 

 95.5 is mixing the best jams!! But what's with this random rap crap they keep throwing in. Stop it!  And I just banged my head on the window. Ow. 

Ok special announcement. Twerking is officially banned from being performed in automobiles. Especially if I'm in the aforementioned automobile and you're rubbing your booty cooties all on my face. It's banned. Period. No more Twerking in cars. 

Twinkies in cars. I'm a huge proponent. 

I should explain that I drank a venti white chocolate mocha during the movie. 

Ack. I smell a skunk.