Drinks

I wake up sweating, throat so dry I cannot swallow. 
I sit up and look around, head is slightly pounding. My pores are oozing fumes of alcoholic drinks. I am almost positive if I breathed onto someone face at that moment they would tell me my breathe smells like a drunk bear took a shit in my mouth.  


I take a gander at my clock. It is 5 a.m. What the hell am I doing awake right now? Fragmented images from the night before come swirling through my head. Bits and pieces of tits and cockery. 


First thing that comes out of my mouth is "What the fuck was I doing at Hamburger Works, 9 o'clock at night in my sleeping clothes, drunk as shit?" 


A giggle comes next, several annoying giggles, then the dreaded "OHHH FUCK" as I remember the scenario that got me to that point in the first place. 


There was a strip club involved. I know this, because I drove there. Alone. Completely sober.


I left...well in a very different condition. Yes. That is what happened. 
In between these two dazzling places only certain things are starting to clear up in my foggy state of mind. 
Drinks, right. Lot's of those bastards.  Making out with the hottie also known as Shane, yes. Beer, beer, beer, yes. Strippers putting tits in ma face, yes. 
Wait...something about my underwear being glow in the dark..What was THAT about? How did I get to that point?... Oh.My.God. 


Was it some sort of stripper alter ego I formed sometime throughout my 2 hour titay club visit? Must have been. Shit I was so confident.


Something about his pink...weiner? Was it pink? I only remember seeing a flaccid, slinky-like jello dick. 
Worried about being kicked out once he pulled out Mr. Jello head. 


SHIT! What the fuck happened?!! 
I lay there so confused about the whole scenario. What the...


My car was there. Shane and I making out some more. Did he kiss good? WAIT.. Did that happen? 
Must have, since the next day, in between my seat was his great smelling t-shirt. 
I knew I should have refrained from having that Jäger bomber. Jesus. I CLEARLY remember telling myself no, but out of my mouth comes a "Sure, why the fuck not." 
Stupid, stupid Bitch! 
I had many beers in a small window of time. We said our byes, Shane and I. It was time to go home and sleep the weird ass evening off. 
I got home quickly and as soon as my front door was locked, my work clothes flew off me with the speed of a lush. Contacts came off, and my sleeping attire was put on. Sleeping attire being whatever it was that was on my bed or the floor. My big soft bed was the place for me, until I laid down, flat on my back. The tiniest of sickness hit me. 
Ok, so maybe that was not a good idea. 


10 minutes later 
My phone goes off. YES! My friend and his girlfriend asked if I wanted to go eat. So instead of changing or at least putting on undergarments I jump into her car and off we go. Beer, freshly sloshing around in my belly. 
I must have thought we were going to Jack-in-the-Box or something since I cared NOT about my sexy appearance. Nope, they did me even better! Hamburger works. It was 9 p.m. 
I recall several people at the table we were sitting at. But who paid for my burger? Shit if I know. I probably did.  
I talked and talked and talked and scared their Asian friend away. I knew he looked at me like I was some random hobo they picked up off the street.
Oh well. Outside to smoke a cigarette. I met a new friend. Richard I believe his name was. Poor lad. I talked his ear off too, until I realized with horror I was OUT of smokes. 
I made my friend run across the road with me to buy some. Poor Circle K man, watched me in all of my glory, perky boobies and all ask for the blue box. Now that I think about it he probably didn't mind one bit. 
I remembered later, next morning to be exact, that I had NO bra or underwear on, my sweat shorts were slightly big and falling off of me, my flip flops were in good shape I suppose that is the up side of this whole situation.
Dear me. What a fucking mess. 


Two days later.... I asked the heavily made-up girl at the M.A.C. counter to color match my blotchy skin. She grabbed some color that may have been what I was looking for and dusts powder on my jawline. I turn to see the difference in between the two colors I had on. I peer into the brightly lit mirror glance the left side of my jaw, noticed the color then switched to the right...and I GASPED. Holy shit. I'd been walking around with a hickey on my neck for two fucking days and just noticed it. 
Fuck.


Four days later....I sat in my living room trying to fill out my lonely night. I started to half heartedly do yard work. (That didn't work out by the way) I lasted all of 5 minutes. Then I gave up, because fuck that, it was too hot and my nails were already in bad shape. So 5 minutes I tried, at least. At most.  
So instead I went inside and made my pathetic noodle dinner from a box and sat in front of my computer. A brilliant idea hit me "Maybe I can have someone do my small yard work in exchange for beer." 
I tweeted this, and waited. 


30 minutes later when I got no response I decided to see what my profile was about. I know I made it, but I forget. I just KNEW that there were some tweets that were just ridiculous. I could have sworn that I only tweeted about that cute guy from school and his stupid fucking shape-ups once. No in fact I did it twice. So I went to delete a few (or 20) of my "dumb" tweets. 


As I scroll down the many tweets I see one that mentions ..."Shane is HOT, I wanna bleep, bleep, explicative".

WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT! When did I write this? 
Please tell me that I did not post this garbage? 
I did. God that was just the dumbest move, ever. 


This whole situation had just gotten way out of control. I need to NOT EVER use my phone when I have had too much to drink. Which would be almost daily. So I suppose that wouldn't work out like it should. 


Plus, I am at my best when I have had a drink or two.