I always try to find some new species of greeting for these things, and “aloha” always crosses my mind. Then I think that I’ve used it too much, when in reality, I haven’t even used it once. So I used it. Anyway,
Last night could not have been better if Brad Pitt himself had joined the party. The night began with 5 Bud Ices and ended with twenty more. The gang and I pregamed for some time at 228D, and then moved the party to SpoCo for some time where the po-lice made an appearance. We quickly picked up camp and left for 808, which was a grand old time. Lots of drunkening and carrying on and things of the sort. I blacked out immediately after taking a red headed slut, and awoke to pictures such as this on my camera that I have literally zero recollection of:
Apparently I kissed this man. Right on the cheek. I definitely have a disease. I need to take an acid bath and scrub off the first layer of my epidermis if I want a fighting chance to survive. Nick and Cole have dubbed this man “Smiley.” Usually his sign is blank; I don’t know what this “I Love B” business is, but I like to think that the B stands for “Becca,” and I am loved. Everyone has their own opinion. Speaking of the blank sign, last week while passing him, I drunkenly blurted out, “There’s nothing on your sign!!!” to which he replied huskily, “YES there is!”
Haha. I used a coozie (cuzie? koozie? coozey??) last night that said “Help Fight Homelessness.” I love irony.
Didn’t get to harass the violinist with the chip on his shoulder last night—not that I remember anyway. I’ll just do it tonight. Too bad I only just now discovered him when the year is coming to an end; I would have had endless fun nightly harassing his grumpy old arse throughout the evening in between drinks. Ha. Shame. I hope he dies.
Meanwhile, I’m going to go vomit and then hibernate until 6 or so when I get up and drink again. Peace.
“Heeey water works!”