Well that’s just great. Kitty DrunkDrunk has collapsed in my underwear drawer again, mistaking it for the upper bunk of her permanently reserved room at Woozy Puddy Last Chance Rehab. Oh SORRY, I mean, “Rejuvenation Spa”. Like anyone’s going to believe that. Now she’s drunkenly singing the entire Highway to Hell album in an off-key falsetto and periodically hollering for someone to “bring her a fucking cigarette, willya?!” This is why I keep the second drawer empty because it will inevitably be filled with horrid K DD bodily fluids trickling from above like a pungent, gin-and-urine scented spring rain. It’s going to be a great Saturday.