Tuesday

Number of roommates sleeping here: Four. Three. I don't know. I think Bee is here. I never know these days.
Number of bottles of wine in the house: none (drought!)
Number of bottles of open liquor in the liquor cabinet: eight
Number of times roommates have take sips from said bottles in the las six months: none

I don't know where Bee has been spending all of her time, but she better learn how to prioritize her quality better. I'm getting lonely.

Last night, my irresponsible master not only locked her keys in the apartment, she stayed out until 2 AM with her friends and some hot former professional football player (she's such a sucker for a beefy guy.) That meant one of the roommates had to wake up from their sound sleep to let her in. Ei was the one who heard the bell, and SHUSHED! Bee loudly so that she wouldn't wake up Cee.

Bee got in trou-ble....!

Then, she tore off her clothes in a drunk fit of frustration, knocked over a whole bottle of hand lotion in the process. I promptly went over and started licking. Yummy! Vanilla flavored.

Bee kicked me out of the way.

Too lazy to clean it up, she shooed me out of the room and shut the door. I spent the night on the couch. I still have a bruise above my eye.