There's a point to this, a point I often miss...

Well, strangely enough I just watched a Family Guy where Stewie becomes addicted to breast milk. I suffer no such affectations, though my pro-boob stance remains unscaythed. Anyway, after the Alkaline Trio Show...

Ian and I adventured out into LAs Vegas, enjoying an uncharacteristic Friday night off. Amazing asian girl with fat old dude....FFW......ah yes, we arrive at our new haunt the Emergency Room (a bar) and we get drunker. Four girls arrive (my scienticians are trying to Wilson-Philips-ize a four girl dynamic, though to little success. Two hotties, maybe two fatties, the science is just not advanced enoough to postulate on this new development), they start gambling and drinking, and we talk to them. Ian gets it in his head that he is going to fuck the fat girl (though not morbidly so) and I leave it to him.

After Striking out with two women who thought they were a lot hotter than they were (as per normal tactical deployment, one must leave the hottest girl, designation PRIMARY, until last in order to...refer to manual for further elaboration), I moved in on the 4th and hottest girl, deftly using my lack of success with her friends as an opening things went well. SHe didn't really like them either, she confided. They worked together. What did I do? I work at slots of fun, and am a semi-professional sperm doner.

Well it turns out that the Bartender I work with, his wife works with these girls, and somehow this new knowledge ellicits a more favorable demeanor from all girls involved...they buy us drinks and are instantly more friendly. I was nice to the bitches before they liked me, so I was free to hit on the hot one.

Now, anyone who has any experience or knowledge of my luck would instantly be set aback by this turn of good luck! and with good cause.

Indeed it was her birthday. No man in sight, pretty good chance that she does not want to be alone....we talk, she's a cool girl, things are progressing nicely. But wait! An attractive late 20's chick in LAs Vegas.....no man.....lesbian...transvestite? I continue forward, oblivious, enjoying her company.

That's when she asks me if she looks good for a woman who gave birth a scant month ago.

Indeed she did, though...do I even have to say it. Where is your kid now, I asked. With her Dad, she replies, implying that they are not together in anything but creating a future stripper. I, of course, ask if she lactates when she hears a baby cry. The arduous persuit of knowledge being very important to me.

That's when she pulls out the "breast pads" (some sort of toilet paper held agaist her nipples in her bra) that have been absorbing leakage all night, apparantly there was no need for a baby's wails.

I was horrified. It obviously showed on my drunken visage.

Gross.

End Transmission.

Addendum to Previous Transmission....

Ian wasted all night hitting on the fat girl, only to find out she had a boyfriend. Neither of us got any that night.