come and get it, for cryin' out loud

kevin forces me to get out of bed at half eleven, telling me that coffee will ease all of my hangover pains. although my head disagreed with him, i slowly crawled from my nest, cursing the massive amounts of whiskey that magically entered my body last night.

oh last night. where to begin?

i seem to remember drinking in the kitchen with bad scottish accents, weed and beer on the road, ben telling veronica and i he felt "pimping" on the ferris wheel, laughing manically, old people shaking their heads, having too many drinks at the pacific, singing beyond the sea, nickelback and ooooh tom petty with just about everyone at the bar. and then- then we had a party in the fish shop that included led zeppelin, naked-in-an-apron-veronica, sauza, whiskey, more pot and the single biggest fucking water fight i have ever been involved in. we should have brought along soap. afterwards, there was a drunken clean up that found kevin and i mopping the ceiling and squeegee-ing the floor while veronica and ben systematically removed all signs of liquor and system of a down from our workplace.

i think last night might have to be classified as best night of the summer.

and had i been allowed to sleep in for another thirty minutes and had access to a greasy spoon diner breakfast, my hangover would have been thouroughly enjoyed andf probably classified as best hangover of the summer. as it was, breakfast was a chocolate pop tart with mot in the fish shop at around half two.

in retrospect, i think that poptart might have saved my life.