Had to pull the old jar of PBR out myself. Set it in the middle of the gathering to gain it attention.
And THE Underwear Model came through.
He knew what it was. He wanted to be the ultimate.
And he drank the skunk.
So I retrieved the jar of dirt and crowned him.
Plus, he had the most “deal breakers” on his record, things like fist-pounding while wearing a visor upside-down and backwards. And other dubious accomplishments.
Additional dirtbag updates from this week:
Total pitches climbed so far: 13
Free food: Chips, salsa, and dip one night.
I found a pair of jeans on the ground that were sort of my size. A little tight.
I tried them on, and Jennie said, “Cool. Are you going to church in the ’80s?”