Tonight I went downtown with horsemanure to cruise the streets for the cheapest giggolo ass we could afford. We explored many a dark creepy alley, calling out "Booty! Booty! We lookin for some booty boys!" We were approached by some of the best looking paid-for ass we could find, but unfortunately they were all beyond our means; we each had a paltry booty budget. Eventually, we made our way to the sales rack of Male Prostitutes R Us. More like the clearance rack actually. For our money, the quantity was great, but the quality was lacking. Missing teeth, missing limbs, extra nipples... So we ditched that idea and decided to go shopping instead.

O Gap, how I love thee. Let me count the ways... Once my credit card was maxed out, confiscated, and cut into two, horsemanure and I went to the classiest food dig we could find - TGIFridays. I slipped the maitre d' a bright shiny new loonie, securing the best seat in the house, right between the bathrooms and the door to the dumpster out back. Our waiter arrived and although I was thinking "Bring this fatass some damn food now! You dirty bastard.", I had to patiently wait while he tried to initiate operation flirtfest with hotshit horsemanure. He took our orders and off he went. Whenever he stopped by, which was quite often, he'd call horseshit "Lovely" and he was always saying stuff like "Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you girls." Then when we were paying our bill he pointed out a fellow server and told us "Stay away from that one. He's got a nipple twisting fetish!" What the fuck?!

Darkness had fallen so I had to whip out my night vision goggles to detect the panhandlers littering the streets. Although I now realize I didn't need my magic glasses... Downtown there were more panhandlers than I could point a stick at. What a strange expression. "...more _______ than I can point a stick at." This guy cam at school told me that one. I don't completely get it. Please enlighten me. Anyways, so horsemanure and I crossed this one particular intersection where there was a cripple waiting at the other end, asking passerbys for moolah. As we neared him I assumed the eyes straight ahead and look completely immersed in conversation trick to avoid giving him the precious few quarters sitting in my pocket. Like I'd give a stranger my video game money! Hell, I'd sell my own mother for one free play on Radmobile. Yes...so as we passed him I heard him say "Do you have any spare change... (pause as we walk past) ...you dumb bitches?" Fuck, I should have followed my instinctive reaction urge. To shove the peddler over onto his ass, wheelchair and all. Then I'd dance in a circle around him, saying "Who you calling a bitch? Who you calling a bitch? You da bitch! You dumb fuck!" Then perhaps I'd kick him in the stomach, just for good measure.

For more on this night of lurid fun, here's what horsemanure had to say.