Eat your heart out, Bravo and Bradford!

Oh, man! What a weekend. I need to tell you all about it because, you know, all the cool kids have time to write a tediously detailed review of their Saturday night, chock full of pointless links and conspicuously forced photographs (just in case you don't believe I did all these fabulous things!). My goddess, I'm not even sure where to begin...

Let's start with my Friday night. Totally wicked, man! I slept until 1 p.m., at which point I rolled out of bed, ate some pizza from last night, masturbated absently to an aerobic exercise program on television, and then fell back asleep. I'm telling you, it was wild! I woke up again at 5 p.m. -- just in time to head to Rodman's and pick up some beer! After all, every day is an alcoholiday -- Friday would be no different!

My trip to Rodman's is when things started to get exciting. Who do you think I ran into? My best pal John Stamos, of course! Man, I hadn't seen Johnny in a long ass time. He's been busy filming those 10-10-220 commercials and fucking Japanese midgets while his wife Rebecca looks on, so I was happy to finally run into him. I invited The John Man over for a round of beer pong, but he said he had a Hot Pockets ad to film that night -- so we were left with no option but to...

FLY TO NEW YORK FOR A DRINK! Man, Stamos is quite the drinker. "I never get hungover -- I'm always drunk!" Words of wisdom from the erstwhile Uncle Jesse, harhar! Anyway, we hopped off his private jet and headed straight for Ruby Foos for some delicious chink food. Johnny was a bit loaded at this point and kept pestering me to "dip" my "egg roll" in his "soy sauce" -- what a flirt! The two of us haven't fooled around since his marriage to that heroin-addled cuntface waif -- I didn't want the press on my tail, you know? But man, I was really tempted to lead Stamos to the bathroom and give him a handjob while he poured sake over my naked body. Sigh -- when it comes to endownment, let's just say that Johnny has a "full house"!

Anyway. I had to get back to Washington and John had to squeeze out another anal bead, so I left Ruby's and Segway-ed back to the District. By the time I was in the dorm, the beer pong tourny was already in session. Stellar! I was anxious to tell my friends about John Stamos, but the only person who ever seems interested in my boring jetsetting tales is Sarah -- fortunately, she was on break from "Sex and the City", so I told her to leave her penthouse for one night (what a homebody she is!) and grace the nation's capital with her presence. Naturally, she obliged.

SJP and I shot the shit for a while, and boy, did we have a lot to catch up on. To my relief, her baby is doing just fine. Sadly, I cannot say the same of her relationship with Matthew. According to Sarah, they haven't done the deed in weeks -- "Toby, my twat's tighter than a chinaman's topknot!" Oh, that Sarah. What a card! I j'adore her.

God, the rest of my night is a little hazy -- I was really fucked up on PCP! I try to stay away from that shit, but it keeps me coming back like Celine Dion's career. Sarah, of course, was pissed off -- not that I was fucked up but because I didn't have any drugz left -- so she headed back to The Big Apple. Lemme tell ya, that schnoz of hers can handle a lot of nose candy. But whatever, I totally understood; nothing sucks more than being on downers when someone else is on uppers! I'm sure I'll run into her some other time.

SJP left at a good time becausae only 10 minutes later I found myself in a real K-hole. When I came to, I was half-naked, lying in the fountain in Dupont Circle, surrounded by the cast of "Temptation Island." Ha! Those guys are such pranksters. Apparently I passed out on the beer pong table, at which point the Temptation Island guys removed my clothes while the girls wrote the lyrics to "Radar Love" on my ass in permanent marker. Inexplicably, they threw me in the Dupont fountain and waited for me to gain consciousness. Fuckers.

The rest of my night involves a gangbang with Laura Bush and a heart-to-heart conversation with Katie Couric. But you guys don't want to hear about that! Next week, I swear, I'm going to take it easy. Smoke a few blunts and kick back a 40 with Snoop. HoLLa!