The Cop Out

I came home to find 7 glasses of champagne, 5 glasses of white wine, 2 of red, 3 of vodka and God knows how many beer bottles strewn all over my apartment. Jenka was drinking Smirnoff from her doggie bowl. Bruno was hanging from a ceiling lamp and wearing a red thong. There were shoes, clothes, even underwear, scattered all over my couch and the worst part was I could not remember for the life of me how it all got there.

I gathered up the dwindling remains of my energy and picked up the entire house. I fed my dogs, walked them, washed all the dishes, and drank a Red Bull in my bra and underwear with my heels still on from the work day. I laughed by myself for apparetly no reason and Bruno eyed me funny and then chewed on a red heel he found on the floor.

The garbage hadn't been taken out in a week and when I finally got around to it I knew for sure I'd killed three people at some point and stuffed them in my trash bin.

Then I told my friend Miguel I had to blog about something, anything. And he said, "Just put up a picture of a naked chick and your readers will forget about you owing them a post." But I couldn't find any naked pictures of Jackson Rathbone and I know that's the only person you want to see naked.

Fine!

p.s. After publishing this post I went to take a shower and noticed Bruno quietly hiding in a corner while he chewed on something and as I got closer I realized it wasn't the red heel he'd been chomping on a few hours before. I guess it won't be long before we attend 12-step meetings together.

p.p.s. I just pulled a douche-move and after Googling Jackson and Scarlett, I image Googled myself. This is what comes up under images for "Annah Rondon."

Seriously I'm not even famous yet and there's already naked pictures of me on the internet. What a friggin' disaster.