Disclaimer: You may feel a need to poop whilst reading this entry. Please do not deny yourself.
So Saturday night I drove to Waco after work. I wasn't expecting much. But I got a lot, kind of. So I show up at my cousin's house, having not eaten anything since lunch. I wasn't expecting much of a wild night at all, so I didn't think anything of it. At any rate, I walk in the door, and they hand me a bottle of SoCo with about two inches left in it. You all know me. If someone hands me a bottle whiskey, what am I gonna do with it? By god, I'm gonna toss it back! And that's just what I did! I wiped that bottle clean! Well, at that point, it was time for drinking games with Mr. McCormick! Ever hear of a game called 'Fuck the Dealer'? It's pretty fun. But by the time you're done, there's very little liquor left! Shit! I haven't eaten! I take my cousin's Mustang to Whataburger, get me a double with cheese, and a root beer. Hmm. Root beer. What can be done with the root beer, other than drinking it with 2 shots of vodka? Done and done. We go to the club. Everything is dandy (except for the fact that they wouldn't let me wear my German soccer jersey in the club. I had to take that off and wear Tyson's whit tshirt. Well hey! I can't wear that, either! I have to draw something on it! Well, white t-shirt, black marker, I drew the three eyed dead guy. Sorry for any copyright infringement, Andy.) Finally get in, and everything's going ok. Chatting it up with a 39 year old that looked like she was MAYBE 25. Had I been a bit more sober, I probably would've gotten her number. At any rate, things move along, and I go off to do other drunken things. As the night progresses, I start to feel shittier. I knew it was coming. I knew I was either gonna puke or pass out. So, I found a nice table and put my head down & passed out. Soon enough, Keegan & Tyson come around & wake me up. At that point, I had passed the event horizon. I was going to vomit. I got up and ran as the crow flies (if it were to have one wing) toward the bathroom. As soon as my foot hit the tile of the bathroom, my bowels hit the wall. I figured, fuck it, what's it matter at this point. I continued on to the stall, where my bowels once again hit the general area of the commode. Around this time, I was running on fumes, very distasteful fumes, but fumes nonetheless. I go back out and pass out until it's time to go. We get back, and I stayed up 'til about 4 watching A Christmas Story, the passed out straightaway after that was over. Woke up and went to church the next morning around 11, and then went to eat at Keegan's girlfriend's grandmother's place. That was nice and relaxing, sitting around, eating nachos and playing dominos. Then I returned home, and the rest of the day was un-eventful. So that was my weekend. How was yours?