So
aj_stalin and I were talking the other day about how much fun it was to do the Pirates of the Carribean drinking game which we did two years ago (I think) and since none of us had any plans this Saturday, we decided to do it again. A bottle of sours apple and a bottle of vodka later we were set to go. In fairness we didn't actually get to see a lot of the movie since one of the rules is to take a shot every time someone says "pirate", and they say it about 6 times in the first two minutes of the film. Basically we got to the scene where Orlando Bloom is clumsy when delivering the sword for Commandore Norrington and then we were out of vodka. We tried to make do with sours apple for a while, but it was godawful and we were already pissed so we just watched a lot of youtube and then went out to
3ff3ct3r's gig, which it turned out was in a dive off the main road. At least we found it, but unfortunately, only about 10 other people could say the same so it was pretty dead and the band never actually went on.
I had a good time anyways, there was good company and a gay guy in a tie who danced outrageously even though the dancefloor was nearly empty. Oh, and I was so drunk that balancing on my high heels was difficult. I still managed to scrape together enough money for a beer though, which turned out to be just enough alcohol to get me past the uncharmingly-drunk-fase and into the slobbering-mass-of-drunken-goo-fase. We went home shortly after and I remember sitting on the kitchen floor with my back to the refridgerator and hazy memories of sex.
Usually, I can reconnect my hazy memories through conversation, so when I woke up this morning, I first tried to recollect everything that happened, and then asked
3ff3ct3r about the things I was hazy about. But nothing would come back. It's pretty scary actually and has never happened before. I've had sex without remembering much about it. I've showered and gone to bed apparently, but I cannot recall when or how. I had a conversation by the fridge which I only remember about half of. I'm about ready to swear off booze from now on.
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I had a good time anyways, there was good company and a gay guy in a tie who danced outrageously even though the dancefloor was nearly empty. Oh, and I was so drunk that balancing on my high heels was difficult. I still managed to scrape together enough money for a beer though, which turned out to be just enough alcohol to get me past the uncharmingly-drunk-fase and into the slobbering-mass-of-drunken-goo-fase. We went home shortly after and I remember sitting on the kitchen floor with my back to the refridgerator and hazy memories of sex.
Usually, I can reconnect my hazy memories through conversation, so when I woke up this morning, I first tried to recollect everything that happened, and then asked
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