40 is the new 25
hey readers! what's up. long time no update. Well this week has been crazy like whoa..so much drama. so like on Friday I was minding my business and driving by the duck pond. All of sudden this ugly cop is like chasing me and making a huge scene. I was like omg and barreled down John St. to lose him. but volvo wasnt feeling good and couldn't outrun him. so i'm like pulled over and this cop was like you were going 43. I was like 40 is the new 25mph, so whats the big deal. Mr. officer didnt like my comment but after a few bj's he let me off with only a little warning. Im such a bad bitch. Anyways so like the next day I go to dance class with Mich O. and one of her filipino slaves. I was ready to bring like $1500 for the lesson but Mich O said it was only $15. I almost didnt go cause that was too poor but changed my mind when I found out Burberry was two blocks away. So I go to this ghetto dance place (apparently Britney Spears goes there but then again she is way poor) and Britney Spears' x-back up dancer tries to hit on me. I didn't really care until he told me his salary and I then puked all over the cheap counter. We go to the studio and like it smells like feet kind of like K-Mart but better. I expected to see ppl in Prada leotards and sweatsuits but instead found people dressed in.. gasp.. hollister. what a faux pas. These people start some dance like they knew it and of course being Fillipino, Mich O didnt tell me it was hard. So I was like is this a class or a dance off? where is the learning. After 10 min. I smacked Mich O and stormed out of that fuck hole. I was so stressed out that I went straight to Bergdorff's for some retail therapy. Seriously dancers are so unfaboulous. Two Dolce shirts, one Prada polo, and a fuck with a cute blonde salesman later I was ready to do some meth and coke lines with Tara Reid and Paris Hilton (she's so LA its horrible) at Bungalow 8.