I washed down the downpayment for the website, a Halcion, with one of those big Heineken's. I put on Wes's swimsuit, which was a little tight in the crotch, no offense to Wes, and proceded to pull drunk/luded moves off the diving board.
They give me the rest of the downpayment, making me promise i don't eat them until i'm on my way home and going directly to bed. My friend warns me that his doctor told him to take up to 13 at a time since their only 25 mg each. He said he ate 4 the first night he had them and was mad pilled out, so i was sold.
So on the way home i'm shifting with one hand and tearing theSeroquel packages open with my mouth, calling people on my cellphone to find a place to drink. Wes answers, i meet him at the Glass Onion and all starts to get really gray.
I know i got there, parked my car, rolled up all my windows, even closing the sunroof, went in and drank with everyone. I only remember about a 1/4th of the conversations of the night and woke up in my bed with my boots still tied.
Around god knows when I was sitting out on the patio, one eye open, Wes demanding that he give me a ride home, i figure this night's over. Every time i tried to talk it came out without any punctuation or any of the other things you need in a sentence needs.
I pay my tab, somehow, as you can see to left, i left with both copies of the receipt, probably causing all kinds of ruckus at the end of the night. I woke up in bed, a opened Seroquel package laying next to my keys and wallet.
Happy 23rd birthday toad, you've made it 23 years, let see if we can do another 23!@#$@#
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