A topless calendar featuring Joanna Krupa is possibly one of the worst ideas ever. After buying this thing, only by mid-September would I realize that the numbers I’ve been trying to decipher for the past eight and a half months were actually dates of the year. I probably would have figured it out sooner had February not ruined everything. So, I just want to preface next year by saying, “Sorry, grandma.” You can blame Joanna Krupa’s tits for me not remembering to pick up your medication. I hope four months without refills won’t be too bad. Pictures NSFW.