ugh

My STOMACH STILL HURTS!!! Dammit, Bee! What the hell are you feeding me? Get me off of that new-wave, crunchy herbal crap and put me back on the Science Diet!! Sheeet.

So funny story from yesterday's lazy hazy (and I mean that literally since Bee couldn't spell sober much less act like she was). We walked outside for our first walk of the day at 1 PM. Yep, one (crackhead). Bee throws on her dark, Jackie O sunglasses and green hoodie and walked outside, hoping she wouldn't see anyone.

But considering I gotsta go kick it with mah peeps, we knew it would be impossible for us to walk out without saying our usual hellos.

So we're able to escape to the end of the block and we're just about to turn around when all of a sudden Bee spots..dun dun DUN...the Neighbor. He was walking his dog on the opposite side of the street. I almost ran over to say hello, but I KNEW Bee would have let go of the leash and not bothered to chase after me, letting whatever stray dog or taxi cab run me over at a whim. I held my ground.

She threw him a half-assed wave, in part because she didn't care, the other part because she was so hungover she didn't have the energy to lift her arm any higher. He gave the nod. The exchange lasted three seconds. For Bee, she would have been happy with two.

When she returned to the house, Bee didn't even have the strength to swear his name to Aye, plopped on the couch watching the Yankees. She merely plopped on the opposite couch and asked Aye to pass the ibuprofen.