So for TWO years I have been trying to get Fridays off of school...TWO YEARS...of course - even in my last semester of school...the one class I need to graduate is only offered on Fridays. Thus...round 1 begins with a decision...study for my last undergraduate test ever, or start the weekend off early?
Clearly I chose to start the weekend off right...Everything was just dandy until a little later in the evening...blah blah blah - Clifforous gets a little upset and screams "Fuck you" at me. I immediately burst into tears...like hysterical sobbing...apparently this can be heard from half way down the street...what can I say - I'm a loud crier when drunk.
This leads to Al and I taking a "walk"...or me laying down in the middle of the street for awhile...then off to bed.
P.S. ROCKED the test friday morning.
Dough and I take an escapade down to Long Beach for a birthday party - several injuries are obtained. These injuries include, but may not be limited to the following:
Several cuts on the right foot which two days later still limit walking abilities: I completely blame this injury on the devil that is highed heeled shoes. I apparently could not be troubled to continue wearing said devil shoes. Some bitch could also not be troubled to continue holding her drink so there was broken glass all over the floor. This leads to more blood coming out of my body than is necessary, Dough frantically wiping up blood, and Matty bringing out the best of his doctoring skills. I also took this opportunity to put my best flirting foot forward (at this point it would probably be the left foot since the right now looks like ground beef)...The 6 foot, 250 pound bouncer became my new best friend and potential dance partner. SO - once the blood was wiped up and massive amount of medical tape applied, I headed back out onto the dance floor.
Extremely painful injury to the neck: Alright alright...it's a freakin' hickey...at least I think it is...regardless - this particular injury is all about location, location, location. I decided it would be a fan-FUCKING-tastic idea to hook up with some guy Dough introduced me to earlier...but that's not all - this idea included doing it on the dance floor in front of 150 of my closest friends (of which I had actually talked to maybe 10). Needless to say the party goers got more than just free food and drinks - they also got a free view of my common sense taking a little break and my dignity being left on the dance floor. Whoop whoop.
Massive bruising on my shoulder and cheek: By the end of the night my foot was not feeling to good so Matty being the gentleman that he is offered up a piggy back ride. GREAT.
Attempt #1: I jump literally one inch of the ground...thus unsuccesfully mounting Matty...(get your mind out of the gutter...)
Attempt #2: I jump... no wait...LEAP onto his back. Clearly I should be an Olympic high-jumper because I managed to jump over Matty's back and face-plant onto the pavement...literally - my shoulder and cheek break the fall...thanks Matty, but I think I'll walk from here.
I just want to say that I went in to this night of fun with two specific goals:
1. Get drunk
2. Hook up with someone
Let me just say: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
ROUND 2 1/2:
Dough and I wake up way to early in an attempt to get Dough to work on time. My options for clothing at this point were dress from night before, leggings, and Mike's t-shirt that just BARELY covers my ass. I decide on the t-shirt and leggings...just so you know..."leggings" is more like tights - thus see through.
At this time I will describe the best walk of shame in the history of walks of shame. From Dough's grandpa's house emerges 4 of the most hungover kids in America...hung over...scantily dressed...and trying not to toss any cookies (vomit). Then:
Me: "Why are there so many people out here?"
Dough: "Oh my God - it's the annual seal beach 10k walk/run."
Oh yes - our walk of shame happened to be on the 10k course. EXCELLENT...I attempted to give our fellow walkers an encouraging thumbs up while pulling down my t-shirt with the other hand to cover my ass. Next year I'm going to tell the 10k people to put "come walk for a good cause and enjoy the sights of drunk and scantily clad college kids do the walk of shame," on their brochure.
Dough and I begin our night playing Beer Pong against a 16 year old...clearly we win...it may be only by one cup...but it still counts. We then continue to DOMINATE until Dough decides she is too drunk to continue. I being the best friend that I am find some PJ's for dough, help dress her, and tuck the little one in for a long night of slumber. I then make a delicious bowl of pasta (when I say bowl I mean more like a large mixing bowl...cause hey - the calories don't count if you can't remember eating them right?)
So for round 3 I replaced a very public make-out with a rando boy with a more private hook-up with a bowl of pasta...mmmm Common Sense decided to make an appearance - WHERE WERE YOU FOR ROUND 2?!
Well...another successful weekend for Dough and BestFriend.
Until next time...