"Me and alcohol have a love/hate relationship. We're in a fight right now, but we're making up tonight." - Unknown

Sunday, March 28, 2010


Last night was my friend Michelle's birthday party. I decided to change it up a little and drink wine instead of what I usually drink: the leftover alcohol that people leave at our parties. So we start predrinking a little bit at my house and then make it over to Michelle's around eleven o'clock or so. We walk in the door, into the living room and BAM, it hits me: this is the most multicultural party I have ever been to. There were a bunch of black guys there (my fav, as you know) and we talked to this Spanish guy named Christian for most of the night who claimed he had drank one and a half 26s. Now, let's be serious Christian, I drank almost a whole 26 and almost died, I'm pretty sure you over exaggerated a little bit. So, after Christian spilled a shot of tequila all over my legs, I decided to stop talking to him and talk to the black hottie sitting next to me on the couch. We chatted for a bit, Christian interrupted us and tried convincing me that him and Matt (black hottie) were blood related. I may have been drunk but I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference between a black man and not-so-black man, especially when one of them is claiming that they're brothers. Michelle, the birthday girl, was completely trashed, like I had never in my life seen her like this. Her ass made more of an appearance than anything else that night. After a while, we all decided to leave to go to the bar and ended up at the bar on campus at my school. Jen and I waited in line for about seven minutes, realized how amazing a pita would be at that point in time and left to get a pita. We made friends with the Pita Shack employee and bonded over our nose piercings. After getting out pitas, we started walking home and I got distracted by a bunch of people sitting near tents outside a residence. Jen and Kass, not impressed with our pit stop, kept walking home and left me there. I started chatting up the people outside the tents, they were there for some reason, I can't remember what but I asked them if they needed donations, decided that instead of going into my purse and getting money, I just threw my purse at them and told them they could have all the money in there. Of course, being good Laurier citizens, seeing how drunk I was, gave back my purse without taking any money from me. So, I started walking home, fell once... or twice.... and then made it home to eat my delicious pita. I guess it's kind of depressing that we drank three nights in a row, and didn't even make it out to a bar for more than an hour. That's okay, I'm sure the owners of Four Seasons and Pita Shack love our business.

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