25
Jun
I didn’t think it was a good idea to continue to bar crawl in billyburg after copious amounts of cheap stella, several shots of cheap polish vodka, numerous rips and a bump or two. But what I say at 4:30am really doesn’t hold much weight, especially because I’m pretty sure no one heard me whining over the awful shit-storm happening over by the DJ Booth. He was amateur at best. But even if they had heard me, I doubt they would have been able to pick words out of the slur. Regardless, I went home with an empty box of cigarettes and a box of bandaids we nicked from the first aid kit at the bar that kicked us out. 5:45am, a cheese sandwich, a bowl and 3 natty lights later, i was bandaged up and shipped off to bed.
This was the second time my boyfriend has had to nurse me back to health while retardedly drunk.
The first time he was wrapping my freshie tat after a night of severe clubbing in miami.
I looked at this pic again. I’m such a pussy-
cat whooaaa whoooaaa whoooooaaaaaaa.
CHRIS: Uhhhh babe….you’re bleeding.
ME: WHHHAAAA!!!!????? Oh….yeah…that. Don’t worry. It’s just a massive hunk of party-chandelier lodged in my leg.
CHRIS: Yeah but you need to like, wash it. Cause it’s bleeding, and a ton.
ME: Bitch, chill. I have another drink coming.
