post while you are drunk thread

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I did.

I woke up the next day, and felt pretty good about it. On the way over to her place I started to lose my nerve a little. Then I thought to myself "way to go jackass, sending that email last night was a premium idea." So I got to her place and we were hanging out, and it was on the tip of my tongue. She noticed and asked what was going on. I sat there like an idiot for about 10 minutes trying to work up the nerve to say it.

I finally came out with it. And everything was swell. She said she'd figured out what was going on about 30 seconds into my trying to spit it out. There was hugging and she welled up pretty good. She made me cookies.

The late-night email stating my intentions was well-received on Monday. It kind of gave it that whole Primal Fear/Usual Suspects ending.
I've seen the bridges burning in the night.

post while you are drunk thread

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Ow, goddammit.;

At what point in my life did a couple shots of whiskey + a number of PBRs = extreme cluster headache? I'm not pleased. It hurts a bunch.

Weirdly enoughg, it didn't stop me from flirting wit ht he cute girl I've been seeing at our shows for a lot of yearsnow. She's only 21 now? Oh geez, I feel like a dirty old men. Didn't stop me tho.

As for th show itself? it was a trainwreck, but it was exactly the sort of traniwrech I was expecting, so it was k8nda...perfect. Plus Lord of the Yum-Yum was mindblowingly fun.

Ow. Ow ow ow brain. The cute girl, she said she was oging swimming after the show. It soudned like a pretty good idea, but she said it was out in Glendale, and no way in hell I was making it out there tonight. Not tonight. ow ow ow.
Hey. My name's Josh.
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post while you are drunk thread

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I love summer Fridays. Rough, busy week culminated in a totally serendpitous short Friday. I drank at Corner Bistro, home of one of the finest burgers in the NYC metro area, then White Horse, the famous dirnking (and dying) place of my literary hero, Dylan Thomas. There are tim3es fwhen living in NYC really pays off. True, there are gratuitous picture sof Dylan everywhere, in a shameless payoff. But equally true, I could see the sidewalk where he collapse, could see the shiny, well used booths where he held court, and could see the view out of the grimy windows upon which he breathed melodramtatic genius.

I'm shitfaced. Music is in order. Ridiculous music.
You had me at Sex Traction Aunts Getting Vodka-Rogered On Glass Furniture

post while you are drunk thread

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I'm wondering if I'm being too much of a drunk pain in the ass, with my metal histrionics and my near-destruction of the computer desk. Out of the corner of my eye, my girlfriend appears, the bong in her hand as she couldn't quite clear it, beseeching me to make use of the last whiskers of smoke that curl from its top. I look at her accusingly, as I'm already shnackered. She shrugs and smiles a small smile.

I love her.
You had me at Sex Traction Aunts Getting Vodka-Rogered On Glass Furniture

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