True Friends Love Ya When You're 'Tarded, Depressed and Just Plain Nuts
Chelle and I have just arrived home from thitwbar...I wasn't drunk at 12:30 am because Ry was too drunk at the other party to safely drive over and hang...so I was about ready to go to bed. Ry and I have done this to each other too many times to count. Chelle was my saving grace I guess...because she called at 12 and I was still awake. What would be better than to go to thitwbar? Pretty much nothing. I guess. I went.
Chelle picked me up. We went to the bar, we had a few drinks. I played some pinball--can I tell you how awesome I did tonight? Chelle was in a mood. It's like my funk is contagious. Ok pervs, I have nothing that's contagious! Actually I have nothing, period.
We left the bar and I already knew what kind of night it was going to be. She said, "We're going to get so fucking drunk, you don't even know." When she put her Damien Rice CD into her CD player I KNEW...
As a good friend I've decided to get as completely drunk as I possibly can, so that I can appease my friend...yeah, because I just hate getting drunk ya'll, ha ha. I got her to switch over to Jack Johnson because that's way less suicidal.
Oh and I should so be suidical if I was that stupid (sorry to all ya'll that are) because Drk was at the bar. I didn't even get the nod or the wave. Yeah, it didn't really hurt that much because I've totally weaned myself of him (and I'm not even fooling myself of that...although I wish we could've been friends...he would've made a good addition to my ragtag band of merry men); that and some townie paid for all my drinks and shots so I was pretty numb (yes in an hour and a half)...oh and the fact that I found out that he's in love with the women with "itty bitty titties." (not the townie, Drk).I'm not going to tell you how I found that out because it's not relevant, nor did I try to find it out, but now seeing the ladies that he does desire...it seems that there is a DEFINITE type of woman that he likes...and uh, I'll never be it...no matter how fucking cool I am...because I only have a few tattoos and the ladies he likes...are totally roadmapped...which I love, however, my job MIGHT just kill me! Oh and I won't ever be pale or hipless--nope not ever.... I'm not busting on what he likes but I wish I had stumbled upon this info before... Before I made an ass of myself for five months. Oh well, you live, you learn. Or not. It probably wouldn't have changed my drunken antics of the past five months.
There will be more drunken chronicles to follow.
Chelle picked me up. We went to the bar, we had a few drinks. I played some pinball--can I tell you how awesome I did tonight? Chelle was in a mood. It's like my funk is contagious. Ok pervs, I have nothing that's contagious! Actually I have nothing, period.
We left the bar and I already knew what kind of night it was going to be. She said, "We're going to get so fucking drunk, you don't even know." When she put her Damien Rice CD into her CD player I KNEW...
As a good friend I've decided to get as completely drunk as I possibly can, so that I can appease my friend...yeah, because I just hate getting drunk ya'll, ha ha. I got her to switch over to Jack Johnson because that's way less suicidal.
Oh and I should so be suidical if I was that stupid (sorry to all ya'll that are) because Drk was at the bar. I didn't even get the nod or the wave. Yeah, it didn't really hurt that much because I've totally weaned myself of him (and I'm not even fooling myself of that...although I wish we could've been friends...he would've made a good addition to my ragtag band of merry men); that and some townie paid for all my drinks and shots so I was pretty numb (yes in an hour and a half)...oh and the fact that I found out that he's in love with the women with "itty bitty titties." (not the townie, Drk).I'm not going to tell you how I found that out because it's not relevant, nor did I try to find it out, but now seeing the ladies that he does desire...it seems that there is a DEFINITE type of woman that he likes...and uh, I'll never be it...no matter how fucking cool I am...because I only have a few tattoos and the ladies he likes...are totally roadmapped...which I love, however, my job MIGHT just kill me! Oh and I won't ever be pale or hipless--nope not ever.... I'm not busting on what he likes but I wish I had stumbled upon this info before... Before I made an ass of myself for five months. Oh well, you live, you learn. Or not. It probably wouldn't have changed my drunken antics of the past five months.
There will be more drunken chronicles to follow.
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