I LIVE.

Fear me.

Um, happy fucking Independence Day or whatever. May and I went to Cocoa Beach. I ate a sandwich. May jumped on the bed. I puked!

Lessons learned: I fucking love Cocoa Beach, like totally. Sandwiches are my favorite food. May is not a monkey, therefore cannot injure herself while jumping on beds. 666 COLD MEDICINE should not be chased by Rolling Rock.

The end.

Not really.

On the 4th, we spent 9 hours on the beach. There were fireworks. Everywhere. A million people on the beach and they all had an arsenal in their Bacardi totes. Then there was the barge not even a quarter mile offshore. I cannot even begin to describe how fucking awesome it was to be surrounded on all sides by explosives and getting cramps from crossing your fingers to prevent getting hit by a wayward BOOM.

I am sure someone lost a limb but was too drunk to care.

God bless America.

I did the Ugly chant from Bring It On to the alligator tonight. My mom was not amused. She thinks it's cute in a "can tear a chunk out of your leg" way.

Yeah, I do, too. I was just fucking with the creature. He knows it, too. We're down like that.

Johnny Depp In Eyeliner vs. Pirate Zombies comes out the day after tomorrow. I am happy.

Which reminds me....

Dear Jimmy Fallon,

If you were to wear eyeliner and fight pirate zombies, you could pillage this booty, too. Right now, I kinda think you're a sissy.

Your almost ex-girlfriend, Molly X

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