Ok, so I procrastinated on a huge paper that was due in my Tuesday night class. So I pulled an all-nighter to finish it, and then in order to not fall asleep in my night class I drank two cups of coffee and was wired for a while. So on the way home after my Nightclub 2-step class I grabbed a forty and drank it as soon as I got home then hit the bong a couple times in hopes I will be able to sleep before my dentist appointment tomorrow.
Then, as I'm suiting down for bed, I hear a knock at the door. My friend Berto is trashed....no that's too conservative a term....shitty.....fubared.....obliterated....ya those are all too conservative, he was as drunk as I've ever seen anyone ever. He puked and tried to sleep on the patio in a short sleeve shirt when it's 41 degrees outside. I finally get him back inside and asleep and as I'm about to go to bed I hear him get up and start to make a run for the bathroom. After I hit the bong a few more times waiting for him to puke, he comes out and finally goes to sleep on the couch.
Although it seems like I'm angry about Berto coming over here that drunk though, I'm not. I know that the guy would do the same for me, and would probably smoke me out the next morning (the guy is SO generous with his weed), so I am actually not even mildly irritated.
Until the door rang and my roommate got home with the last, Last, LAST, LAAAASSTTTT person I would've expected to see her with....her ex-boy....guy who cheated on his girlfriend with his booty call (my roommate) when his girlfriend and my roommate were friends and my roommate didn't realize they were together. It was pretty fucked up and she has hated him for the last year...and furthermore she just knocked on my door with a "hey, we'll talk about this tomorrow cuz we need to talk about it" so I say "OK, but what happened to Berto's hand?" and then she looks over at the couch and says "how the fuck did Berto get here?" So I sigh and say "Ya we'll talk about all this in the morning."
WTFIGOT? aka What the fuck is going on Tuesday!
Then, as I'm suiting down for bed, I hear a knock at the door. My friend Berto is trashed....no that's too conservative a term....shitty.....fubared.....obliterated....ya those are all too conservative, he was as drunk as I've ever seen anyone ever. He puked and tried to sleep on the patio in a short sleeve shirt when it's 41 degrees outside. I finally get him back inside and asleep and as I'm about to go to bed I hear him get up and start to make a run for the bathroom. After I hit the bong a few more times waiting for him to puke, he comes out and finally goes to sleep on the couch.
Although it seems like I'm angry about Berto coming over here that drunk though, I'm not. I know that the guy would do the same for me, and would probably smoke me out the next morning (the guy is SO generous with his weed), so I am actually not even mildly irritated.
Until the door rang and my roommate got home with the last, Last, LAST, LAAAASSTTTT person I would've expected to see her with....her ex-boy....guy who cheated on his girlfriend with his booty call (my roommate) when his girlfriend and my roommate were friends and my roommate didn't realize they were together. It was pretty fucked up and she has hated him for the last year...and furthermore she just knocked on my door with a "hey, we'll talk about this tomorrow cuz we need to talk about it" so I say "OK, but what happened to Berto's hand?" and then she looks over at the couch and says "how the fuck did Berto get here?" So I sigh and say "Ya we'll talk about all this in the morning."
WTFIGOT? aka What the fuck is going on Tuesday!
keighlanight:
wooooooow...what a story!
keighlanight:
oh..and you are sooo sweet! I am so happy you liked my makeshift set!