Who is responsible for my actions while I am intoxicated? I know it is not me, but who is it? PG example: Last night after crushing martignettis late night - incredible kettle/waters (shout out to Dennis), and I dig the new arena and the spicy birds giving it their all in an attempt to lock down a consistent platinum Amex for the winter hibernation period - I strolled over to my SoHo hideaway to prepare for another day of money making. I was searching for my vegetable powder when I opened one of my mahogany cabinets and a jar of nutella was staring me in the face. Nutella is my kryptonite. If it didn't exist I would undoubtedly be running deep patterns for the Giants. So, inevitably, I start scooping fistfuls into my mouth.

Luck has it that my roommate came home at that exact minute with a bright young swede - just in time to save me from my worst enemy, myself. The beautiful swede gasped in horror at the sight of a bedazzling american Adonis whose fingers were dripping with nutella, but my roommate laughed with glee. Soon after he was feeding the californian wildfire and was searching the kitchen for things that I could put the nutella on so that I would continue to eat it (i.e. petit ecoliers, twizzlers, pizza, etc). Without much effort, I consumed the entire container. Needless to say, I do not feel very well today and have not made as much money as I usually do (though I still have made enough to fuel my boat for a year). Who is responsible for last night's nutella orgy? At first I blamed my roommate - but he is so innocent and fair natured (he bought a pumpkin the other day and named it after me) that blame sticks to him like carbs to my rippling abs. Then I began to blame Q - the bouncer at nettis. He saw me leaving and didn't throw me a high protein balance bar like he usually does. But, finally, I have realized that last night's events should not be blamed on anyone. It was destiny and apt punishment for my actions. I will never again come home alone.