I had everything in my pockets ready to go home last night, and did exactly that at 11pm sharp. Knowing I would have an early start in the morning, I had intentions to go right to bed. I felt bad when my GF text me at 10pm that she was at her apartment by herself dressed up in her costume, drinking and watching Zombieland. Not the WORST scenario ever, except for the fact that she was supposed to be having a Halloween party.
So I did what every good BF would do and I stopped by when I got off work. By the time I had got there at 11:15ish, there of course were 10 or so people there. She was dressed up as Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, and she was lookin good. I introduced myself being disguised as "Guy who has work in 6 hours".
I had 2 beers and decided I should throw in the towel. Feeling somewhat left out on the fun, I decided to make an appearance at the other party to see my friends. The other party was a clusterfuck of 30 or so "kids" whom were all quite possibly high on something. The smell of pot was very apparent, the noise was pretty loud, and the front door was wide open. Not the smartest of party setups I've seen, but if the cops never get called, then kudos. I saw a few of my friends, who said they wanted to come to my GF's party after an hour or so, just due to the madness at that party.
Great, so I'm obligated to stay up at least an hour for my friends to show up at my gf's party.
One thing lead to another, and if I was going to be awake at a party, I might as well be drinking, right?
10 or so beers, 1 big texas cheeseburger, and 4 tacos later, it's 3:30 and me and my GF are finally hitting the bed.
My alarm proceeds to ring a few hours later. And here I am at work. I'm pretty sure the storm brewing in my intestines is going to be the worst god awful shit known to man, being that I had all that shit last night, and about 6 cups of coffee yesterday through my work shift.