Checkers
Nothing new....temp agency hasn't found anything and I'm not going over why I can't find a job right now. Trust me I've had all the suggestions in the world and they've all been shot and buried in my backyard. Dear lord, do I sound like a pessimist much? At least I bring the sexy. Lol, that's my new catch phrase for everything, thanks to Tony.
So......oh yes, I do have some news including to myself, because hardly anything is news to me. Nothing surprises me anymore, except for last Friday. Tony, Michael's older brother got a sweet ass internship job with a magazine called Skinnie. He will be doing exactly what he is going to school which is very important doh. So he decided to celebrate and I decided to help Michael cook spaghetti because Michae never spaghetti before and I was worried. Well, I cooked some fucking sweet ass spaghetti. Michael had two plates! And me the stupid person that am did not have any of it. Instead I had two stiff fuckings drinks of coke and bacardi. I'm talking 70% bacardi and a dash of coke. I was fucking buzzed after two drinks. I called Ryan was all really affectate with "I love you so much!" He didn't mind. Lol. Basically called him and told him, I'm going to get trashed can you tell?
Michael was in bed by 10-10:30. He had to get up at 4:30 in the fucking morning to open at Carrows where he works. So it was just Tony, his friend Ben (cool dude, plays bass guitar), and I left to party all night. Tony decides hey let's go to the Skydive, which I found out later that that bar is Michael's favorite bar........had I known that I would not have gone because I can't show my face anymore......getting that....
So we go the bar. We get there and basically Tony and Ben tell me and hand the keys saying "Dude, Adriann, if shit goes down, get yourself the fuck out. I'm serious." I told my sister this and she was like "Oooooh, noooooo, you're the get-away car!" Lol. Yes I was fucking nearly drunk off my ass, I was like shit, I gotta sober up. Well.......pitchers of beer later.....
I woke up on the couch......and can't remember a bloody thing. Shit. I found out I puked my guts out. I remember puking once....well that wasn't the end of it.....poor Ben....he apparently helped me. And Michael helped me when I got home because I puked up some more. I was really fucking sick....
Now, can anyone tell me what did wrong? Because anyone of my drinking buddies can tell you and put some shit down, and this is only my second time puking, but I've never puked that much ever. And I hardly drank at all! Well, it was the beer after the hard liquor. I found out that I cannot under any circumstances drink beer after hard liquor. At Kristen's birthday party, we had sooooooooooooo much shit. Captain, Crown, jelly shots, bunch of other shots, etc. But I didn't puke and lost my memory until after I had the one beer on the dance floor. It wasn't the tequila shot, it was the beer. I only puked once that night. But this time I drank pitchers! Pitchers! No wonder I was so fucking sick.
I also made a new drinking nickname here. So my drinking nickname in Louisiana is "Cheech." Well, here in California my drinking nickname is "Checkers." Because I bought some really cool rad Van tennis shoes and well they gray and black checkers. I wore that night and so it has been dubbed so.
Well, I hope I will be a better champ next time I drink with Tony. But in the famous words taken out of Tony's mouth the next morning....Good Times!
So......oh yes, I do have some news including to myself, because hardly anything is news to me. Nothing surprises me anymore, except for last Friday. Tony, Michael's older brother got a sweet ass internship job with a magazine called Skinnie. He will be doing exactly what he is going to school which is very important doh. So he decided to celebrate and I decided to help Michael cook spaghetti because Michae never spaghetti before and I was worried. Well, I cooked some fucking sweet ass spaghetti. Michael had two plates! And me the stupid person that am did not have any of it. Instead I had two stiff fuckings drinks of coke and bacardi. I'm talking 70% bacardi and a dash of coke. I was fucking buzzed after two drinks. I called Ryan was all really affectate with "I love you so much!" He didn't mind. Lol. Basically called him and told him, I'm going to get trashed can you tell?
Michael was in bed by 10-10:30. He had to get up at 4:30 in the fucking morning to open at Carrows where he works. So it was just Tony, his friend Ben (cool dude, plays bass guitar), and I left to party all night. Tony decides hey let's go to the Skydive, which I found out later that that bar is Michael's favorite bar........had I known that I would not have gone because I can't show my face anymore......getting that....
So we go the bar. We get there and basically Tony and Ben tell me and hand the keys saying "Dude, Adriann, if shit goes down, get yourself the fuck out. I'm serious." I told my sister this and she was like "Oooooh, noooooo, you're the get-away car!" Lol. Yes I was fucking nearly drunk off my ass, I was like shit, I gotta sober up. Well.......pitchers of beer later.....
I woke up on the couch......and can't remember a bloody thing. Shit. I found out I puked my guts out. I remember puking once....well that wasn't the end of it.....poor Ben....he apparently helped me. And Michael helped me when I got home because I puked up some more. I was really fucking sick....
Now, can anyone tell me what did wrong? Because anyone of my drinking buddies can tell you and put some shit down, and this is only my second time puking, but I've never puked that much ever. And I hardly drank at all! Well, it was the beer after the hard liquor. I found out that I cannot under any circumstances drink beer after hard liquor. At Kristen's birthday party, we had sooooooooooooo much shit. Captain, Crown, jelly shots, bunch of other shots, etc. But I didn't puke and lost my memory until after I had the one beer on the dance floor. It wasn't the tequila shot, it was the beer. I only puked once that night. But this time I drank pitchers! Pitchers! No wonder I was so fucking sick.
I also made a new drinking nickname here. So my drinking nickname in Louisiana is "Cheech." Well, here in California my drinking nickname is "Checkers." Because I bought some really cool rad Van tennis shoes and well they gray and black checkers. I wore that night and so it has been dubbed so.
Well, I hope I will be a better champ next time I drink with Tony. But in the famous words taken out of Tony's mouth the next morning....Good Times!