who gives a fuck about an oxford comma
my dad downloaded some huge, disgusting virus into his computer which i just spent an hour trying to delete to no avail.
really sexy way to spend valentines day, i know.
and then i got a phone call from that IDIOT boy i like inviting me out for his birthday with his friend jen and his ex-girlfriend. yeeeeeeeeeeeep. the one he still has feelings for even though shes leaving the country in four days. that would have been a really fab party.
some people just dont get it.
well, last weekend was bad. i got very drunk friday night, and then suddenly very, very sick. i choked on my own vomit and passed out in a bathroom stall with my pants down, head slumped against the door so that no one could retrieve me. i blacked out and had to be dragged out of the bar by two large men (one of whom i slept with at some point in my past so you can believe that i really must have been zonked out of my mind to have allowed that to happen). i then face planted into a patch of ice, scratching open my forehead, arms, and giving myself a killer bruise across my face. i was hauled into my house by my girlfriend katie who stripped me, threw out my vomit covered shirt and underwear (yes i puked into my own underwear) and put me into bed. i was hallucinating, covered in blood in vomit, and shaking violently.
a very fat man and his older-than-my-father boss bought the two of us drinks and were trying to get me to have a threesome with them... ( i dont remember this. i dont remember anything, really.) apparently they wouldnt let katie come near me and kept feeding me drinks, and she suspects they drugged me.
i cant prove this or anything really, but i can also say that i honestly have no recollection of anything after my second rum and coke that they gave me. i was fine, a little drunk but more or less okay, and then i dont remember anything. i dont remember puking, i dont remember falling and scraping up 90% of my face and arms, i dont remember having a group of strangers pulling up my pants, i dont remember being carried into my house, and i dont remember being put to bed with my face tipped to the side in case i puked and choked again. i dont remember any of it, and when i woke up,i had no idea where i was or how i got there.
fucking great weekend. i then spent most of saturday trying to rid myself of the extreme shakes and hot/cold flashes, and went out again saturday for laura's birthday.
my liver hates me.
anywho, all in the past now. everything happens to it becomes a part of the past, and then fades away. this moment... this moment is real, and in this moment i am cold. i am cold, and i am lonely, and i have a dull headache.
tomorrow i dont have to work, and i dont have to do anything, but im dragging laura to the art institute so i can refuel my soul.
....
I MEAN SERIOUSLY, HE THOUGHT I WAS JUST GOING TO BE LIKE, YEAH, LETS ALL GO OUT, YOU, ME, AND YOUR EXGIRLFRIEND? FUCKING MORON.
really sexy way to spend valentines day, i know.
and then i got a phone call from that IDIOT boy i like inviting me out for his birthday with his friend jen and his ex-girlfriend. yeeeeeeeeeeeep. the one he still has feelings for even though shes leaving the country in four days. that would have been a really fab party.
some people just dont get it.
well, last weekend was bad. i got very drunk friday night, and then suddenly very, very sick. i choked on my own vomit and passed out in a bathroom stall with my pants down, head slumped against the door so that no one could retrieve me. i blacked out and had to be dragged out of the bar by two large men (one of whom i slept with at some point in my past so you can believe that i really must have been zonked out of my mind to have allowed that to happen). i then face planted into a patch of ice, scratching open my forehead, arms, and giving myself a killer bruise across my face. i was hauled into my house by my girlfriend katie who stripped me, threw out my vomit covered shirt and underwear (yes i puked into my own underwear) and put me into bed. i was hallucinating, covered in blood in vomit, and shaking violently.
a very fat man and his older-than-my-father boss bought the two of us drinks and were trying to get me to have a threesome with them... ( i dont remember this. i dont remember anything, really.) apparently they wouldnt let katie come near me and kept feeding me drinks, and she suspects they drugged me.
i cant prove this or anything really, but i can also say that i honestly have no recollection of anything after my second rum and coke that they gave me. i was fine, a little drunk but more or less okay, and then i dont remember anything. i dont remember puking, i dont remember falling and scraping up 90% of my face and arms, i dont remember having a group of strangers pulling up my pants, i dont remember being carried into my house, and i dont remember being put to bed with my face tipped to the side in case i puked and choked again. i dont remember any of it, and when i woke up,i had no idea where i was or how i got there.
fucking great weekend. i then spent most of saturday trying to rid myself of the extreme shakes and hot/cold flashes, and went out again saturday for laura's birthday.
my liver hates me.
anywho, all in the past now. everything happens to it becomes a part of the past, and then fades away. this moment... this moment is real, and in this moment i am cold. i am cold, and i am lonely, and i have a dull headache.
tomorrow i dont have to work, and i dont have to do anything, but im dragging laura to the art institute so i can refuel my soul.
....
I MEAN SERIOUSLY, HE THOUGHT I WAS JUST GOING TO BE LIKE, YEAH, LETS ALL GO OUT, YOU, ME, AND YOUR EXGIRLFRIEND? FUCKING MORON.