Old acquaintance, motherfuck, and a hundred dollars worth of forget-me-now
I could say that I've been this hungover before, but I'd clearly be lying through my teeth. Everyone in the band is great pain. Thanks, alcohol!
New Years Eve = So. Much. Fun. We arrived at the house yesterday and started imbibing immediately. There was shortly rock. I wacked some kid in the face with my headstock. Brad got brained with a war-hammer. Short but sweet: kids went hog fucking wild and my doodle-doo-ing was well received. Then commenced the party, during which I administered first aid (for Anapparatus' carnage), drank a universe worth, and probably impregnated like six girls and five guys.
The fun was tempered by bro-dude douchetards who clearly hated us and everyone else who is sweet and good and were yelling sXe slogan while, you'll note, at a NEW YEARS EVE PARTY. One of the guys was clinically retarded, I think. But when it came down to it, Diary, they weren't getting kissed at midnight. Proof is in the puddin.
Dan wins in the drunk in public category. I win in the getting-my-necklace-of-hickeys-nearly-complete category. Brad wins. Jeremy died from Buttershots poisoning, but I was able to resurrect him using my warlock powers.
Item: I actually saved someone's life last night. I'm hyperbolizing, duh, but I was told that a lot. This had to do with someone falling bum over teakettle and me preventing their brains from getting dashed using my ropily-muscled arms. Also, everyone kept following me into the bathroom because they thought I had coke. Which I didn't.
Good riddance, '05. You sucked.
New Years Eve = So. Much. Fun. We arrived at the house yesterday and started imbibing immediately. There was shortly rock. I wacked some kid in the face with my headstock. Brad got brained with a war-hammer. Short but sweet: kids went hog fucking wild and my doodle-doo-ing was well received. Then commenced the party, during which I administered first aid (for Anapparatus' carnage), drank a universe worth, and probably impregnated like six girls and five guys.
The fun was tempered by bro-dude douchetards who clearly hated us and everyone else who is sweet and good and were yelling sXe slogan while, you'll note, at a NEW YEARS EVE PARTY. One of the guys was clinically retarded, I think. But when it came down to it, Diary, they weren't getting kissed at midnight. Proof is in the puddin.
Dan wins in the drunk in public category. I win in the getting-my-necklace-of-hickeys-nearly-complete category. Brad wins. Jeremy died from Buttershots poisoning, but I was able to resurrect him using my warlock powers.
Item: I actually saved someone's life last night. I'm hyperbolizing, duh, but I was told that a lot. This had to do with someone falling bum over teakettle and me preventing their brains from getting dashed using my ropily-muscled arms. Also, everyone kept following me into the bathroom because they thought I had coke. Which I didn't.
Good riddance, '05. You sucked.
posted by tgrh. at 9:30 AM
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