I think that these numbered posts, well, faux-numbered posts are going to be how drunk I was on a scale of one ten in the post to which it refers. Get it? Good. So, for future reference, 1-10 means recent party.

Last night was three, though I think I told Sam six, but I think that had to do with my being in a three. WTF do I care, she doesn't remember anyway.

It was Sam's birthday party, and, as we all know, where there's Sam, there's liquor. So, we all went to her house and anticipated Ralph's falling asleep so that the reall party would start. The "fake-cover-up" party was a sham, we all played cards, and watched DickCream.com movies. We did make the best of it, though. OH MAN, WE POONED. YOU POONING POONER. POON YOU.

Then, Sam had an epiphany. Not the kind that makes a cold heart warm, but the kind that makes a sober heart drunk. She realized that there was no one up at JnC's, and that JnC could have boys sleep over. This is important, because, by sleep over, I mean pass out.

Somehow, we all make it up there at different times, and people who left after us seemed to have mastered the time-space continuum and beat us to base. Anyway, we were there. Jackie did her civic duty by playing Mom for the evening... Until she was too drunk to feel her face. That took about an hour...

Sam and Phil, on their way over, decided to fuck authority. Figuratively, of course. They're straight-edge. Obv...

WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO? They decided that no matter what she did, her parents wouldn't be able to do anything about it. If she was having sex in her basement, and her mom came down stairs... What was she gonna do? If she was drunk off her ass, and her mom called her... What was she gonna do? Take away her cellphone? Then she wouldn't be able to get ahold of her. We also determined that if you're parents are divorced, you are much better off. Granted you don't get white christmas lights, but its a trade-off...

We played various drinking games, and those who had to leave left. We made one store run to grab some chasers. I couldn't do it. I just hated the taste of the alcohol on my tongue, and memories of X-night flooded back into my mind. During the course of the night, I was tempted to take a shot, but I just. couldn't. do it. I couldn't.

In addition to that, I now know why you feel drunk when you drink, and that's not a torture I want to willingly subject myself to. I'll wait until I'm stranded in the Sahara.

Ummm.... Oh Yea, I almost tried smoking last night. It's always been something that I wanted to try. I know its pretty negative, but it's pretty hypocritical to say it's bad (mmkay) without trying it. Phil was opposed as well, which, I guess, wouldn't stop me anyway, and I have no idea why I put that.

I'm fucking comma happy today. =P

I went to bed around two, and everyone was up and loud in the other room. I wasn't really drunk and I didn't really understand their humour. Someone would breathe, and it was HYSTERICAL. I didn't see it. Don't get me wrong, I had a blast, but I went to bed early.

Apparently. FUCKING. LMAO. Sam. Fucking. Peed. In their fucking closet. ROFL. I can't believe her. Even more funny, is she peed, and then climbed into bed next to me... She fucking pushed me out of bed so that she could sleep. We ended up sharing Cait's bed. Phil was pretty obnoxious. He tried to sleep with just about everyone, and he was loud and flamboyant. He broke some glasses. I think between the two of them, there's some expensive damages. I mean, Cait needs new prom shoes. LMAO. LMFAO.

In the most ridiculous item of the day segment tonight, there was a doggie blood drive in Boston yesterday. What the Gay? They're dogs. The blood will be used to help save other canines... Now with some comentary on this crazy situation, Fox News Political Analyst and Democratic strategist...
::off stage:: "BILL, GRAB ME A PACK OF NEWPORTS... YOU GOTTA UNDERSTAND"

The Job section is actually going well... I mean, I still don't have a job, but there is a wealth of available positions in the Sunday Republican. I just keep telling myself: JOB = JAG.

I have prioritized, but I don't know if I posted it yet. It's my three point plan for immediate success. Job, car, boyfriend. More specifically, blah jaguar blah. Jaguar was the answer to a question on The Weakest Link the other day, and it made me feel happy. =)

School tomorrow. =(

I have a research paper due tomorrow. It's about ten to fifteen pages long, and I haven't even started. Yay. I can't wait. Fuck.

When is the Pope going to die, already? Can't he just ask God to take him?

Anyway, I'm done with this fucking novel. Caio.

¶ 09:16