Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Don't expect me to remember anything for awhile

I can't write in my notebook anymore because it's covered in alcohol and Chris's blood. And all of my jokes from the past few months are bloody and look like evidence.

Well, the notebook was soaked in beer before because I have a bad habit of carrying open containers of alcohol in my purse when "Last Call" is called.

Anyway, Sunday night, Chris was walking me home from the bar. I was pretty drunk. (On a side note, I now know why malt liquor is not served on draft.)

On the way, we passed this guy he kind of knows, and when he said hi to him, the guy punched him in the face with a six back of promotional Budweiser bottles.

I was confused because I was drunk and it happened very slowly and kind of casually. But then Chris's cheek was bleeding, and the only thing I had on me was my notebook to put pressure on it. So we walked back to his house with four dirty hands applying pressure to his face with my dick jokes.

Then Chris called the cops and had to go to the Emergency Room for stitches. We didn't get back to Chris's until like 5:30 am and I slept on the couch. It was a long night and I didn't even get laid.

But now Chris has a really gross-looking cheek. He says it looks tough. I haven't seen him since, but it probably just looks disgusting.

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