It's a shame I couldn't be there tonight. It's always good to have a token indian around to ward off the gangs and shit. Good luck out there.
I actually have pictures of this I crashed early but you guys are surprisingly uncrazy (even you, Ghetto) - not a bad night out all thoughts considered (The only people who showed were me, Hooker, TheLegendaryEsquilax, ghettoastronaut, Angel, Crown Royal, and Dread)
You think I drink with my pinky up? My god, woman. Even if I were as snooty as you think I am, snooty British people don't actually drink tea with their pinkies out because it looks retarded.
Why the fuck I was doing that I have no idea. Any time I handled one of those small beer glasses my hands were taken over by gayness. Boy, it's good to be home because I feel lousy. Good times, kids. I liked everybody, you were shockingly easy to get along with. Congrats also to hooker for pulling off the most symmetrical party foul I've ever seen. Also to that guy wearing his dark sunglasses to a pub last night. FUCK I wish I could be him.
So fuck my life folks, I'm sorry I didn't come last night. For some ungodly fucking reason I assumed we were doing this tonight. I just assumed that the 30th was the Saturday. You have no idea how rattled I was when I logged on here last night and it clicked that yesterday was the meet up day. Mother fucker.
My heel looks like someone took a bite out of it. My husband took one look at it and told me maybe it was time to stop drinking.
What happened to your heel? And let's not make any rash decisions here, that seems like a pretty drastic action.
Pictures(no Hooker, your heel does not count) or this did not happen. Some of us have to live vicariously through you guys, you know, the cool kids.
Highlights include: introducing myself as hooker throughout the evening, the random last minute RSVP dude talking about some Thai porn star that takes in like a champ, watching said porn star during her finer moments on my phone in the middle of the bar, Crown getting a $9 ghost busters birthday tshirt in a bunny bag, Ghetto and I playing drums with homeless men in the middle of arguably the most popular intersection in Toronto, Crown teaching me how to get rid of my drunk hiccups, Ghetto arguing with me about ginger, and finally - me passing out the second my head hit the pillow when we got back to the hotel. Oh wait... and I can't forget me spilling 12 of Ghettos beers. Maybe thats why he insisted on calling me by a different name all night.
Can you expand on this? I get that shit from time and time and it sucks ass. One SuperBowl I had them for 3 hours.
Talk to Crown. He's handy to keep around while you drink. He'll even get you bandages an napkins when you're bleeding profusely because you're a clumsy drunk.