This is a conversation I overheard between two of my roommates last night.
Giles - Logan, do you remember what we talked about last night?
Logan - Yeah, I remember
Giles - So you're not going to bitch out like every other weekend this past month?
Logan - I already told you I will try.
Giles - So when I get back from Carlton tomorrow night we're getting blacked the fuck out, right?
Logan - (with a bit of apprehension in his voice) Yeah, that's the plan.
Giles - I don't care if there are girls around that you're trying to impress or talk to. You and me are going to get so fucking blacked out that we're going to forget what time it is, our names, and how to function at a basic level. If you're able to walk or even begin to verbalize anything, you're not drunk enough.
Logan - I said I'll try, man
Giles - No. We're going to be so drunk we'll be blacker than black.We'll be so blacked out tomorrow night that Sunday morning when we wake up, we'll still be blacked out.
Me - oh god
I'm not sure I want to stay home tonight, but I feel as though I'm obligated to just so that I can document it for science even though I feel sick as hell right now.
Good times.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
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4 comments:
Fall wins by a mile. Literally.
Literally? Did fall lace up its tennies and cross a finish line 5280 feet ahead of its opponents?
Giles sounds like a real hard fartin son of a bitch
I like nights like that. Where you establish from the outset that if you get laid, you did it wrong.
"can't talk. drinking."
He likes to think he is. Case in point, he's dating Katelin Cranny
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