Very, very , very drunk on more Screwdrivers than I could count.
Annoyed at being sat next to slowest member of class (and I mean like my Dad slow-i.e., not comfortable with it being 2009, let alone 1989 technology wise) I understand why, but there comes a point where someone is just NOT going to get it.
Critical mass, we have some.
So drunk. Helped friend wait for her little fuck button. Left, dutiful friend. I hate bars. That little mating ritual-annoying. How do you single people deal with that? Everyone looked the same, talked the same, bored me to tears. OK, except for the fact that there was a fucking convention of bald men with glasses. And the dude with the face pubes who kept playing with them. I can’t deal with that. I cannot handle face pubes.
It’s gonna be a beautiful day tomorrow. Typo’s and all.