I hate you Mr. Vodka
I think last night was the craziest night I've ever had in Montevallo. I never thought that was possible in that town. Philen had invited me to Chase Rye's birthday party and it was quite interesting. One minute I was dancing, and the next thing I remember is waking up on the couch cuddled up in a blanket. I feel like an idiot and like a bum for actually passing out somewhere; I haven't passed out at anywhere other than my own house in a while. No more shots of vodka for me. Paris, where the hell are you? Why do you always run away with strangers?