When people question why i am drinking by myself.
Well it’s the summer so of course this means I tend to get bored and look to alcohol for some wise advice on what to do.
SOOOO onto the actual fucking story.
Last weekend I’m at a good party, FOR ONCE IN THIS TOWN. As in there’s a light show in the garage and handles of tequila nicely left out for me to take and casually drink out of….who am I kidding I fucking poured that into my cup and used it as a chaser to my vodka. Well cops came, blahblahblah, ‘how old are you?’ ‘are you drunk?’ ‘what’s your name’, I lie quite often and said Bon-Qui-Qui, they obviously believed me on that name choice…..*sarcasm*. It was either that or Watermelonisha. Myself being the smart ass I am, hid in the woods with this older guy named Brandon but what do I do? No I decide his name shall be Pirate Louie for the rest of the evening, and that between each word I need to pretend my index finger is a mustache and whisper ‘argh’. AND prolonged this white girl wasted moment by throwing his beers into the woods screaming, ‘find ye treasure’.
The result of all of this, the guy asked me to be his fuck buddy for the last few weeks of summer.
DUDE, I was a bitch. I don’t understand, but hello summer 2012.
when my friends and I wake up and realize my mom has my car with all of our handles in it. not the perfect saturday morning I imagined.
the next morning when I’m in the dining hall and people keep giving me high fives and someone has to remind me of my weekend encounters.