This One's For The Groupies...

So I finally told my psycho roommate that I'm moving out. Came home the other night and there was vomit and blood everywhere. It was her disgustingly dumb dog. She wanted to know if he looked like he was really gonna die or maybe die in an hour or two, to see if she had time to finish pounding her shots or getting pounded, I can't keep her Friday/Saturday schedules straight.

So now that I'm moving out, I figure that when I get my place all nice and pimped out, I'll have a housewarming party. So all the fans (when I mean fans I mean floozies, plenty of women read this blog, trust me) can come over and help decorate my bedroom in the manner of your choosing. Here are the two options:



Keeps you humble, you know?



Allows you to remember where you came from.

I'm not very good at painting, or cleaning up or staying on task, so I guess I'll just have to supervise. Feel free to chime in or suggests others in the same vein, but seeing as you muthas don't know how to post comments, I expect to be living in option number A.