I'm too old for this shit

I have lots to tell you, lovers.  Most of what needs to be told to you also needs to be told to me because, well, someone had too much fun this weekend {hint: it's me}.  Those stories will have to wait until Nashville and Tampa finally decide to post their pictures.  Here's what I know:

Friday:  Nashville was kind enough a complete bitch and brought my new kryptonite: moon shine.  Not just any moon shine.  Apple pie moon shine. Whoever invented this needs to gold medal for life.  And then needs a swift kick to the balls.  It was the best thing I've ever tasted and it kicked my ass.  It kicked it bad.  Steve Prefontaine brought over some rum.  Fer brought some vodka.  We drank far too much before we even left the house.  We went to my favorite bar - which just happens to be within walking distance - and I'm banning myself from there for at least one week {you'll find out why in a second}.  We caught the tail end of the Grizzlies game and I made a wager with Mr. Prefontaine.  If the Griz pull out a win, I'll buy you a car bomb.  If the Grizzlies lose, I'll buy you a car bomb.  Yup.  I'm a fucking idiot genius.  Griz lost.  Car bomb mania began.  THEN it happened.  I may or may not have told someone {that doesn't know me well enough to find that charming, cute, or funny - not that it IS any of those things} that I want their p in my v.  Adios dignity.  In those exact words?  Haaawwwwwwhat?  Who in the fuck does that?  Someone who's had far too many jello shots and Irish Car Bombs, too much moonshine and, the icing on the cake - rumplemintz.  I sold my most prized possession for $20 and a shot of rumple.  I miss my mustache necklace already.

Friday recap:  down one mustache necklace, one busted knee, lost at least one card, dignity out the window... or down the pisser - whichever the case may be.

Saturday: I told people to come over around noon.  I woke up in a timely fashion. At 11:45.  Cute.  I'm still in my towel when my first friend arrives.  I'm still hammered from Friday.  I have no idea what's going on.  I took a nap.  In my front yard.  On my porch.  In my house.  Captain Ron came over.  Uninvited.  Gave his business cards to all of my friends.  Tried to talk to me at the edge of my bed while I was napping.  My friend from work came over with his friends.  {Side bar:  The last time Taylor came over with his friends was during my housewarming party.  I was swimming on the floor when he got here.  I don't know why he came back for more embarrassment.}  I told one them he had a pretty face.  {In my defense, he totally did.  And he speaks French.  And he cooks.}  I also told him I want to lick his teeth.  Sometimes I really fucking creep myself out.  Sometimes = all the time.  We all went to the Blue Monkey.  There Nashville fell in love with a stranger named Evil Keith.  Real life.  I know, I'm confused too.

Recap: I'm the biggest creep in the world, my friends fall in love easily, Taylor should never hang out with me again, Captain Ron is the second biggest creep in the world

Sunday.  Moral hangover like whoa.  Waking up in my apartment that smelled a lot like bad decisions {aka stale beer and cigarette smoke} was pretty much the only good decision I made this weekend.  Next time I throw out the idea of jello shots, tell me no.  I won't listen to you.  But at least you will have tried.

 I need to tell you that before this weekend I missed college.  I missed the lack of responsibility.  I missed the bad decisions.  I missed everything.  Now?  All I have to say is I'm way too old for this shit.  Way too fucking old.

Today was rough.  I'm pretty sure my kidneys are failing and my liver is on it's last leg.  My brain has officially turned to mush.  I realized I lost my debit card, again.  I lost my flex spending card {still not sure how that happened}.  I didn't lose my id {whoop, whoop} and I somehow gained the respect of one of my neighbors and some anti-burn cream.  That's all I have for now.  I'll be a grown up one day.  I promise. I also promise it won't be anytime soon.  But one day.

In other news, this girl I work with told me she had a dream I was pregnant.  I hope she doesn't predict the future otherwise I need to take up extreme sports.