Triscuit dust and condom stock

Last night I went to some punkyish-gayish bar were I got hammered on screwdrivers, admired PhilO's hot Brittish friend and decided that if lesbians looked that good in the midwest I would convert.

Then we went to a trashy dance/pool place were the ratio of men to women was around 3 to 4. I was already with two cute guys so I left the trash-guys alone and made friends with all the hot ladies for buddies.

All attempts were unsuccessful.

I spent part of the night on the floor because the bed spun too much. Phil has all these down sheets/pads/pillows, which I'm allergic too, but are extrtemely confortable.

I forgot to get keys from him this morning so now his apartment is spotless. Kitchen, floors, windows - I washed the bathtub so I could take a bath in it. (I know, I didn't learn from my first time cleaning a friend's apt., but I have faith this time it will go better)

While cleaning I found out that PhilO has more condoms than an Amsterdam whorehouse. (They were out! I didn't go through the drawers or anything)

Good for him.

The only snack food I could find was Triscuits. I breath in the little Triscuit dust while chewing and might be coughing for the rest of my life.

I'm in heaven.