A fine day to be alive.
It's a sunday. And I'm happy.
Erin, Burti, Johnny C and Hobbo came over last night. We got a bit drunk.
Klassic Kwotes:
Me: "*barfs*"
Erin: "He called me pumpkin!"
Hobbo: "Whatever, buttercup."
Erin: "I only realised the other day that they call kiwi kiwi because he's from new zealand..."
Erin: "Body heat"
Erin: "Yeah, but I'm not drinking tonight. *drains full glass of goon*"
Burt: "Yeah, I'll only have a few."
Me and Erin: "Let's play spoons!"
Hobbo and John: "Spoons?"
Burt: *sigh*
Burt: "Who's jack daniels?"
DeathJuice II [tm] Responses:
Burt: "Oh good grief."
JC: "..."
Erin: "*Look of extreme distaste and loathing* Michael, i can't believe you're going to drink that."
Hobbo: "It burns so fiercely that you can't feel it on your lips, it numbs them."
Me: "My godfather. I will be fucked."
I then proceeded to drink a lot of it. Two bottles, mixed with cascade lemon-lime cordial and goon.
Oh my god.
Oh my fucking god. If you've ever drunk 5 standard drinks in about 150 mls, you will know the extreme arsefuck-drunkeness that descended over me in about half an hour's time. It was insane. I'd been drinking goon as well, I'd had about four or five large glasses, two of which I drank very quickly. We went schooling and fucked around a bit and hobbo and I ran and then fell down. Then we walked a bit and hobbo the sod tripped me, not thinking I would hurt myself quite as much as I did. My head hit the ground so hard I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion. It fairly drilled. I lay about in pain for a while, then I realised I was going to be sick if i moved much. So I lay there longer until hobbo said "You're going to get too cold out here" and I got up. And fell down. And barfed. On my arm. Then I spewed a fair bit more. And my head hurted. Then we came home. And it got worse. Much much much worse. So I spewed in the sink for a while. Then a bit longer. Then we all went to bed, and I lay there talking to erin for a bit, then realised I had to be sick one more time. So I did. Bulimics are insane. Being sick is the single worstest awful thing. Evar.
So yeah. Then I went back to bed. And it was cold. And yeah. Good times. We had a ball, though. Brilliant. And erin says she'll make Tatum come to the next one.
Parents are home, and I feel seedy.
Later, chumps.
Edit.
Yes, it is now later. And every time I even think about the lemon essence, no shit, I feel sick. Belle escaped tonight. Eeegh. She is teh fattieness.
Erin, Burti, Johnny C and Hobbo came over last night. We got a bit drunk.
Klassic Kwotes:
Me: "*barfs*"
Erin: "He called me pumpkin!"
Hobbo: "Whatever, buttercup."
Erin: "I only realised the other day that they call kiwi kiwi because he's from new zealand..."
Erin: "Body heat"
Erin: "Yeah, but I'm not drinking tonight. *drains full glass of goon*"
Burt: "Yeah, I'll only have a few."
Me and Erin: "Let's play spoons!"
Hobbo and John: "Spoons?"
Burt: *sigh*
Burt: "Who's jack daniels?"
DeathJuice II [tm] Responses:
Burt: "Oh good grief."
JC: "..."
Erin: "*Look of extreme distaste and loathing* Michael, i can't believe you're going to drink that."
Hobbo: "It burns so fiercely that you can't feel it on your lips, it numbs them."
Me: "My godfather. I will be fucked."
I then proceeded to drink a lot of it. Two bottles, mixed with cascade lemon-lime cordial and goon.
Oh my god.
Oh my fucking god. If you've ever drunk 5 standard drinks in about 150 mls, you will know the extreme arsefuck-drunkeness that descended over me in about half an hour's time. It was insane. I'd been drinking goon as well, I'd had about four or five large glasses, two of which I drank very quickly. We went schooling and fucked around a bit and hobbo and I ran and then fell down. Then we walked a bit and hobbo the sod tripped me, not thinking I would hurt myself quite as much as I did. My head hit the ground so hard I'm surprised I didn't get a concussion. It fairly drilled. I lay about in pain for a while, then I realised I was going to be sick if i moved much. So I lay there longer until hobbo said "You're going to get too cold out here" and I got up. And fell down. And barfed. On my arm. Then I spewed a fair bit more. And my head hurted. Then we came home. And it got worse. Much much much worse. So I spewed in the sink for a while. Then a bit longer. Then we all went to bed, and I lay there talking to erin for a bit, then realised I had to be sick one more time. So I did. Bulimics are insane. Being sick is the single worstest awful thing. Evar.
So yeah. Then I went back to bed. And it was cold. And yeah. Good times. We had a ball, though. Brilliant. And erin says she'll make Tatum come to the next one.
Parents are home, and I feel seedy.
Later, chumps.
Edit.
Yes, it is now later. And every time I even think about the lemon essence, no shit, I feel sick. Belle escaped tonight. Eeegh. She is teh fattieness.