August 8, 2007
OMG Paris drunk dialed me last night
She calls me at 2:28 AM and she's so fucking wasted. She's like, hello? Hello? Larry? And I know it's her right away. I'd recognize that high-pitched whiny valley-girl voice anywhere. And I say, yeah Paris? And she says, do I have the job? And I'm like, well, you did pretty well in the MiG simulator according to the guy in HR, and everybody gave the thumbs up, so I guess it's a go. And she's like, YAAAAAAAAAAAAY LARRY!!! And then she starts laughing or crying, or both. And then I'm thinking, wait a sec. I could have some fun with this. So I say, Paris, you're going to stick to me like white on rice, right? And she's like, uhhhh huh. And then I say, and you'll roll me joints anywhere, right? Even in your parents house or the men's room or the Oval Office? And she's like, uhhhh huh. And then I say, is there anything you won't do? And she's like, uhhhh huh. And then I say, okay, like what? And she's like, uhhhh huh. That's when I hung up.