Dude, WTF
On Friday I went out with Cindy the Lou. Mostly what I remember is this, being WAY more trashed than I have been in a very long time.
I drunk dialed Grace... twice. Heh.
You might think, big deal! Pfft. Whatever! Lighten up Terra! hehe.
But, I didn't remember doing it at all until Grace emailed me this morning. Which is when 'some' of it came rushing back. Heh.
I called twice because I couldn't hear, number one, and number two, I was under some drunken impression that I had lost cell phone reception the first time. Hrm. Nice.
Ya know I luv ya Grace! I mean, I don't ever drunk dial! Sheesh.
Saturday morning I woke up with a slight hangover, it was gone in about a half hour. Which was nice. I NEVER get hangovers. Heh. I'm all special and shit. Although, as O points out, when I DO get hangovers, I get the mother of all fucking hang overs that lasts for a week.
Not fucking kidding.
A whole fucking week.
One time I thought I was going to throw up at the mention of tequila for nine days to be exact. Apparently this is what happens to 'ME' when I drink a small bottle of tequila straight.
Fine, you're right, I don't know how much I actually drank. I think I lost count after the twelfth shot.
So Saturday morning, no hangover. SUH WEET.
Also. Friday was something of a learning night for me.
Lesson number one: Cindy is just as pissy as I am. She told someone that they couldn't sit at our table because she didn't like them. And then she repeated the sentiment. Like three times.
HA!
Later, some stupid fucked up friend of theirs tried to put her shit on our table. Just as she was about to remove it (because she was told 'hey, that's not our table') Cindy said, 'it's alright' and I interrupted with 'no. Actually it's not. Take it off the table.'
We're such BITCHES!!!
and so mother fucking proud.
Lesson number two: when a guy starts telling you about all of the books that he has read recently it's a pretty safe assumption to figure that he's been to prison. Also, if he tells you how he recently found God? Yep. That's right. Convict.
Lesson number three: move AWAY from the convict!
Lesson number four: fights break out around convicts pretty frequently. Your beer will dropped. Your purses stepped on. Your male friends will either abandon you for fear of convicts carrying knives or jump INTO the fight for NO known reason! Seeing as how they don't know ANY of the involved people, you would think that they would not be a willing participant. But, whatever, men are stupid.
Lesson number five: when you and the person you're talking to gives dirty looks to whatever drunk has just stumbled up and is now speaking incoherently at you (or the empty space to your left), eventually, they will go away.
Lesson number six: the next day you will wake to the realization that you, as well, were most likely as coherent as a four year old at disney land.
i can attest to the fact that you were as coherent as a 4 year old at disneyland. i could hear you talking. i figured you couldn't hear a fucking thing. heh.
and SUUUURE you never drunk dial ppl... just like you never get hangovers or black out... hehehehe :P
Posted by
grace |
2:44 PM
I'm under the impression that YOU caused the bar fight. See, this is how it went down. In my head. You walked away from the table (leaving me alone and vulnerable, mind you) and immediately....bar fight. I bet you walked by some guy and shook your ass then when he went to grab it some other dude got all jealous because he wanted to be the one who grabbed your ass so he punched the first guy in the face. You're just lucky they gave me a new beer. Otherwise there would have been another bar fight. And quit hitting on convicts, you slut.
Posted by
Cindy-Lou |
7:01 PM
whatever, you know it was all West Side Story, Maria.
hehe.
OH, SORRY, I mean't Mrs. Robinson.
;p
Posted by
TerraT |
4:24 PM
I'm glaring at you now.
Posted by
Cindy-Lou |
10:10 PM