And he's the married one.

The night began at a strip club. Well, not precisely. The night began with me leading Francisco all the way the wrong way down Sunset Boulevard until we finally realized we should've gone the other way. Then we went to a strip club. Then we went to see the concert at the Roxy (which kicked ass, Stroke9 is awesome). Then we went across the street to the Hustler superstore and perused porn. Pictures were taken at increasing intervals throughout the night, which I'm sure will show up here at some point soon, detailing the night's debauchery.

To his wife: I swear, it was all his idea. I was just along for the ride. Don't blame me for corrupting him, he was already there without my help.

However, at the end of a very long week and an extremely long day, I'm almost exhausted enough to fall asleep over the din caused by the party in our fucking rude neighbors' apartment next door. Yes, the same neighbors who blocked in our cars and made us late for work this morning. Yes, the same neighbors who've done it before and annoyed the hell out of us. Yes, the same neighbors who had screamingly loud sex with a high-pitched nasal-sounding woman last night (probably just one of them, not both). This is getting out of hand.