Nothing to see here Monday

I'm actually working today and I don't have the time to put together the totally clever and awesome posts you have come to expect from me. Quality writing takes time - and booze. Neither of which do I have at my disposal right now.

So, we'll save the Sassy brilliance for another day and just go with my fall back option - stealing someone else's shit that is WAY more funny than mine.

From Secret Diary of a Call Girl - two nuggets of truth in their purest form:

L is for Lousy Kissers - There are a lot of these in the world. It's not your duty to reform them, though a gentle suggestion, well timed, can be the best thing a man gets out of the encounter. Other times you have to know when to hold your tongue. Especially when he cannot hold his.

and...

There are downsides to unpaid casual sex, of course. Aren't there always? By engaging in truly random, one-night attachments, you open yourself up to stalking, relationships, and all other manner of sexually transmitted ills. For some reason, we as a nation have collectively decided that a drunken snog in a crowded club is an acceptable overture to everlasting love. It isn't. So let us get that straight right away.

I'm reading a new book that makes the journal of a British whore look like nursery rhymes. I will not be quoting it because even I have standards (most days) but you might want to check out: I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell by Tucker Max. But, remember, I WARNED YOU!