The Worst Flavor Combination: Alcohol and Vomit.
- Thread starter Chicklet
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bknight2602
Knight of Pleasure
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Hanns_Schmidt said:
This is the first intelligent post that I have read from you.
Chicklet
plays well with self
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- Apr 8, 2002
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...and then cats urinated on my clothes.
So last night all my boyfriend's friends came over to my place for a party. They arrived before I got off work, and the drinks were overflowing. Seriously. Imagine this ass (that one over there <---) running back and forth wiping up drink after drink.
Then the toilet flooded the bathroom.
So by midnight I hadn't had one drink. At twelve everyone decided to go to another guys house so we could make as much noise as we wanted (his place being in a secluded area, mine being an apartment) so off the sober one's drive.
At this place I discovered that I'd won the survivor contest, and to celebrate I downed 3 (only 3) shots of vodka (and my stomach twists again even as I say this)
The buzz wore off quickly, and by two I was ready for bed. My boyfriend gets me settled in to the parents of the host's bed, and I fall fast asleep. At some point in the night I take off my pants, and then my shirt. Still in undies, I'm snoozing just fine.
At seven o'clock AM my boyfriend comes in and asks if I'd like to go home. I realize that while I would love to go home, I am not going to make it. With the toilet in mind, I rush for the bathroom, and spend the next ten minutes puking my guts up.
Afterwards the worst taste is in my mouth. I'm not at home so there's no toothbrush. I feel AWFUL.
My boyfriend repeats his offer to let me go home and I agree, reaching for my shirt. It's wet. I ignore it and slip it on. Then I put on my pants. Also wet.
"Will you smell this for me?" I ask suspiciously. My boyfriend bends down and comically sniffs my pants crotch.
"Cat pee," he confirms. The little bastards peed on my clothes while I slept.
Coated in urine, I walk downstairs. it is frickin' COLD outside, but I won't put my coat on over my smelly clothes. Braving the elements, I climb into my car, concentrating on NOT throwing up again while my boyfriend drives the twisty, turny road down the hill towards our apartment.
As soon as he pulls into the driveway I open the door and throw up again.
I wasn't even drunk! It wasn't even fun! I was doubly punished for a shitty new year! argh.
I'll show those cats.
Next year, I'll get super drunk.
See what they think about THAT.
Chicklet
So last night all my boyfriend's friends came over to my place for a party. They arrived before I got off work, and the drinks were overflowing. Seriously. Imagine this ass (that one over there <---) running back and forth wiping up drink after drink.
Then the toilet flooded the bathroom.
So by midnight I hadn't had one drink. At twelve everyone decided to go to another guys house so we could make as much noise as we wanted (his place being in a secluded area, mine being an apartment) so off the sober one's drive.
At this place I discovered that I'd won the survivor contest, and to celebrate I downed 3 (only 3) shots of vodka (and my stomach twists again even as I say this)
The buzz wore off quickly, and by two I was ready for bed. My boyfriend gets me settled in to the parents of the host's bed, and I fall fast asleep. At some point in the night I take off my pants, and then my shirt. Still in undies, I'm snoozing just fine.
At seven o'clock AM my boyfriend comes in and asks if I'd like to go home. I realize that while I would love to go home, I am not going to make it. With the toilet in mind, I rush for the bathroom, and spend the next ten minutes puking my guts up.
Afterwards the worst taste is in my mouth. I'm not at home so there's no toothbrush. I feel AWFUL.
My boyfriend repeats his offer to let me go home and I agree, reaching for my shirt. It's wet. I ignore it and slip it on. Then I put on my pants. Also wet.
"Will you smell this for me?" I ask suspiciously. My boyfriend bends down and comically sniffs my pants crotch.
"Cat pee," he confirms. The little bastards peed on my clothes while I slept.
Coated in urine, I walk downstairs. it is frickin' COLD outside, but I won't put my coat on over my smelly clothes. Braving the elements, I climb into my car, concentrating on NOT throwing up again while my boyfriend drives the twisty, turny road down the hill towards our apartment.
As soon as he pulls into the driveway I open the door and throw up again.
I wasn't even drunk! It wasn't even fun! I was doubly punished for a shitty new year! argh.
I'll show those cats.
Next year, I'll get super drunk.
See what they think about THAT.
Chicklet
