Some leftover quotes from the weekend:
Sean, taking things to new and creepy levels...
Jeremy: Well, I'm leavin'. I'm gonna blow this popsicle stand.
Sean: I wish I was a popsicle stand.
Sean: I hate this commercial
Me: YOU'RE a commercial.
Sean: Uh, no I'm not.
Me: That's too bad, if you were a commercial you'd be gone in 22 seconds.
This weekend really blew by fast, and it was kind of an odd one. Overall, it was good, as usual, but I spent a decent amount of it either in a bad mood, or feeling sick.
Friday I had to pick up Melissa from the airport at 6. On the plus side, Melissa moved here. On the negative side, it took me 2.5 hours to get from White Rock to the effin' airport.
Two and a half fucking hours.
God I hate traffic. And construction. And protests by truckers. Uggh.
So after eventually finding Melissa, we made it back in time for the ball game, where we got slaughtered. Everyone played bad, everyone (especially me) was grumpy. And by the time we started drinking it was almost midnight. The night was pretty much a write-off.
Saturday was better - we all got pretty loaded at my place - but it started off ugly. I felt like garbage on Saturday morning, despite the fact I didn't drink the night before. Which is why I've again come to the conclusion that my body needs alcohol on the weekends. It expects it.
And when it doesn't get it on Friday nights, it's angry on Saturday mornin'.
I made up for it at night though - got freakin' plastered, as did most of us, which was good. I had a nice beer buzz going until we started playing Moose. I had to chug the cup full of beer once, and was OK. But what kicked my ass was the second time...WHEN WE WERENT EVEN PLAYING THE GAME ANYMORE. I'm not entirely sure how Kelsey roped me into chugging the cup full of beer, rye, and pepsi, but she did.
It wasn't my finest decision. After that, all bets were off. I vaguely remember the rest of the night - losing at poker, watching Kels and Lambie go toe-to-toe in the living room (which was hilarious), and then stumbling off to bed at 4 a.m.
And, once again, I paid for it Sunday morning. I had a hangover til the afternoon.
So whether I drink or I don't drink, I'm always fucked in the morning.