I got the dirtiest glass on earth at the restaurant last night. I think a hobo goldfish lived in it for one thousand years.
Dirty glasses are a delicacy in some counties you know.
Yes I said COUNTIES.
I looked at a friends photography portfolio and tried to stay positive but it was really really hard. Especially because deep down inside, behind this egotistical facade, I'm actually a total dick.
My step dad, one of his pals and I, are building quonset huts and redesigning some of the playgrounds on Mormon temple grounds from hither to thither. The security guards give us shit because we don't have clearance to even be on the temple grounds let alone to be building crappy Hawaiian ghetto playgrounds out of overgrown tin cans on the sacred grass.
Luckily the guards are Brazilian so I trick them by speaking portuguese and feeding them hot dogs.
ALERT!
ALL BIOLOGICALLY BASED SECURITY METHODS ARE EASILY DEFEATED BY HOT DOG!
Speaking of which, I went to Alaska to scout film locations, you know, Ice Road Trucker style, gotta stay current. I'll probably make a film about ice road truckers since really that's all TV stations broadcast now.
I'm talking about HD cable. DUH.
Oh yeah, I panicked the fuck out all day yesterday because I thought I accidentally drunkenly asked this girl I've been following around to marry me. Luckily it was just a dream, including the panicking part. There were minor residual awake panic aftershocks for 57 minutes but they were pretty mild because I knew I hadn't been to Jamaica recently.
Point is:
Marriage is for fags.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught crapping out your half digested tongue when friends ask you to rate their shit.
Your Giganticest Douche Ever,
Matthew McConaughey
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