I ended up getting a last minute invite to go to the LSU game with my Dad Saturday, so I went. We stopped at Zippy's on the way there and each got a daquiri that tasted a little like pink lemonade. Well, the pink lemonade must have been masking the taste of gasoline and ecstacy, because I was fucked up six ways from Sunday after drinking that thing. Like, to' up from the flo' up.
And you see, I usually don't like to get *quite* that intoxicated when I'm around my parents, because, as many of you know - when I'm drunk my blunt honesty goes from zero to one hundred in no time. And at this point I start bringing up questions and situations that I am still carrying around from childhood. And quite frankly, I don't see the point in doing that. But I do it anyway, because I have issues and I just can't help myself.
So yesterday I slept pretty much all day and night and left the house twice. Both times were to get greasy fast food. It was a proud day for me.
And I'm still tired.
ha! laughed the entire post. just saying.
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