It's Sunday. It's 11:30 or midnight or something. I don't know what time it is, leave me alone. You just had a great show, met some awesome fans, and are currently sitting in a little room at a bar and your table is covered in condoms. What do you do?
GIRLY SHOTS!
Darren and Melissa and Kate and Jordan and I were all that was left of a rather large cotterie of people that sat in one of those little rooms in the front of that bar Local 138. It was still pretty early, and to pass the time we decided to ask the bartender for the girliest shot he could think of.
He did a good job.
The shot was bright pink and tasted like strawberries. So did the six others that followed it. Why did we continue to drink these? I don't know. It was just like drinking liquid Jolly Ranchers. I probably shouldn't eat any sugar for six months now. We probably weren't even drunk so much as we had an insane sugar buzz. I drank a gallon of water and brushed my teeth nine times when I got home, and my mouth STILL feels like I made out with Strawberry Shortcake for nine hours. Not that I'm complaining.
When I looked in the mirror this morning my eyes were bloodshot but the veins weren't red, they were bright pink, and when I farted it played the "Rainbow Brite" theme.
Girliest drinks ever.
P.S. As usual, I just read over this post to check for errors (the one error I always forget to correct is clicking "post") and this post doesn't make any sense. Sorry.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment