Tuesday, February 23, 2010

My Brain Hurts

Can I just say...kahwdogineaoribvgnd;gkl u bh9e8r75-ynb237utfc 30;q8n417&#*^%#*&TGIUGS:IOUYBP(&^95.

And also, FUCK.

Already, it's been a crazy week. A busy week. A depressing and hopeful and exciting and boring and fun and lame week all wrapped up into the same 7 days like god's trying to hurry the fuck up with all of his paperwork before he goes to Hedonism II for spring break.

There are so many decisions to make and options to weigh and choices to second guess, not just for myself but for some of my super special friends as well, and it's like we all went out for a drink after work but we can't for the life of us decide between the margarita or the iced tea, and don't even get us started on the happy hour appetizers: We'll be here all damn night.

This has been the appetizer sampler platter of weeks, ya'll: Some days I liked (boneless buffalo wings), other days were better for my friends (quesadillas), and the rest of the days were like the mozzarella sticks that I'm guaranteed to choke on every.single.time I eat them even though I always think to myself, DON'T CHOKE ON THE MOZZARELLA STICKS.

And then the server forgot my extra side of ranch.

But you know what? It's fucking HAPPY HOUR, motherfuckers. So bring me another round of those thimble-sized domestic drafts: Ima turn this bitch around. And then probably need Gray to drive me home.

5 comments:

  1. Turn it girl! Sometimes several rounds of domestic drafts is just what it takes. It also sounds like a great way to start the day!

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  2. This is important, so listen up now: Stop telling yourself to not choke on the mozzarella sticks. God is fucking with you.

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  3. Oh. I hope you get good and drunk, sister girl.

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  4. Jesus, happy hour sounds good right about now.

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You.Yeah, you. Speak the fuck up.