Girlfriends.

Girlfriends.

I can't help but notice that every booze session with the gossip queens entails them buying me drink after drink and a slew of incriminating pictures on Facebook the day after. This evening's session had me in splits, quite literally with K and M each holding a leg and giving my glutes one heck of a stretch on Morton's plush couch.

As much as the babes are bullies who like me wasted and silly for their entertainment, they get as many laughs out of me as I do from them, and there really is nothing like an evening of the gang's trademark crude humor to put an end to my self-imposed antisocial spell. And as much as their sole motivation in life seems to be getting me wasted and embarrassed, they are as protective as protective gets, as demonstrated by how quickly they summoned P up from the loo to intercept a tricky conversation.

Ma sistas got ma back. And it seems my legs too. Pics to follow.