How ya been? I know. I know. When I got my DUI or DWI or whatever the hell they call it these days, I was bummed, too. Obviously Officer McCullough did not realize who I was either. Little did he know I would be blogging about him a short while later. I also de-friended him on Facebook.
Did your husband blow at the scene? Apparently you don’t actually have to do that. I wish someone would write that on that big billboard at Crescent Heights and Santa Monica. You really don’t have to blow until you get to the station. But then once you get there, girl you better blow like you’re auditioning for a gay porn. Otherwise the license goes bye-bye for a year.
I’m not going to lie, honey. This is going to be a pain in the ass. More for him. Smart move having him drive. I would, too, if I were you. Well, I would’ve uber’d if I were you. I mean, I would uber all the time sober if I were you. I can’t stand driving. Some guy honked at me because I picked up my phone for a second today, and he wasn’t even behind me. And another guy yelled at me for blocking traffic when I was trying to pull into McDonald’s drive-thru on Good Friday so I could get a Filet o Fish. “You shouldn’t be eating at McDonald’s anyway!” he screamed. That’s what I get for making it all about Jesus.
Anyways, I just wanted to let you know, if you need any tips, from lawyers to classes, to just keeping your head up while the others are saying mean things about you (I actually liked This Is War), just give me a holler. Been there. Done that. I feel ya, girl.
love and uber,
P.S. If you do a Sweet Home Alabama remake, I would like to play Bobby Ray’s love interest. We could say we met on Scruff, and it just sparked.