Take a Corona, drink away a neck's worth, then pour a shot or two in the
bottle and tip it upside down. Add lime, drink, then repeat several
dozen times. That was my drink of choice on this past weekend's bus
trip! Well, that and drinking Goldschlager straight from the bottle.
I'd like to regale you with some stories from the bus, but it was mighty
insane and my camera broke so I don't have pictures. I can tell you
that I temporarily lost my wallet, had myself dropped off at a park at
1AM when bus-claustrophobia took over, and sang the shit out of some
Garth Brooks karaoke. I don't think anyone puked, no one went to jail,
and I didn't see (or smell) any sex on the bus.
Oh, and some girl I didn't know professed her hate for me. Later I find
out that I dated her sister a few years ago for about a week. It was an
amicable ending and we're still friends, so I don't know what the story
is there. I tried to win her over with drinks, epic singing, and a
sincere apology, but she was tough. Oh well- can't win 'em all, right?
Oddly enough, the most drama enfolded at my house that night when I
wasn't even home. It started with a call from my cousin telling me to
"not come home" until I'd worn off some hangover and felt in a better
mood. He said there was a party at my house (sans me) and some pranking
was involved. To better tell the story, I will show you my Facebook
1. Dear whoever had an unauthorized party at my house and put a toilet on my roof, prepare for me shitting in your house/car at my next earliest convenience. Not joking.
2. Also, if you would like to remove the toilet from my roof, I might consider exempting you from said shitting. You have until, well, it happens. And with these rumblings, it'll be soon.
3. I know the difference between feline and human excrement, and my cat's litter box contains both. Well played.
Every piece of furniture in the house was moved, every picture or
painting removed (and occasionally replaced with pants), all of my
clothes were knotted or turned inside out, my socks were tied together
and strung throughout my bedroom, my fridge and freezer were packed with
misc. items (i.e. bathroom scales and pillows), available surfaces were
covered with writing (in toothpaste, no less), stove tops were hung from
curtain rods, and my bed was in my kitchen.
What do you do when you're hungover and confronting all of this? What
any sane man does- you curl up on your bed in the kitchen and nap.
Later it was claimed that I told people earlier in the day (when the bus
stopped out at my hometown bar) that I was planning on having an after
party (aka 'afties') when I got home, so I suppose that's a mitigating
factor concerning the unauthorized party.
Still, I have an epic amount of house/car-shitting to do this week, so
I'd better get eatin'.
And seriously- who poops in a litter box?
Caleb "barely survived the weekend" Shreves