This is me and some random old lady.

"What the hell are you?"

We went to Don Pablos, and they started to sing happy birthday to her.

So then Jafar, Krista's boyfriend, and I took it upon ourselves to go and take some pictures of us and the birthday girl.

Twas the highlight of my weekend.

That and getting really red. My hair, that is. There is orange in it as well, but it's not as noticable.

Brian Johnson says it is wicked hot. Brian Johnson is my lover.

And oh, please allow me to clarify something: I am not a nicotine fiend. I don't crave it, I don't breathe it, I certainly don't reek of it. If it's around, I'll just acknowledge its presence with a friendly puff.

Oh, and also, I'm not an alcoholic or pothead. Can you honestly imagine me being either? Drugs are like, you know, bad.

I'm not, and never will be, a substance abuser. I'm just a little weary of being the poster child for good clean fun.

No matter how hardcore you may be, curiosity will eventually bite you in the ass.

What's so wrong with having experience, anyway?

To end this on a humerous note...

Underpants.

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