I almost forgot that Halloween meant Halloween parties.
I think I should just sit by my window all weekend live-blogging the events as they occur.
Fred and Wilma Flinstone just passed by. Wilma was already too drunk to walk. That was never in the cartoons.
- Guy #1: HEY!
- Guy #2: HEY!
- Guy #1: HEY!
- Guy #2: HEY!
- Guy #1: HEY!
- Random Guy: WHAT?!
No, no, it's okay. You can totally have that deep, personal conversation on your cell phone out in the parking lot.
I won’t eavesdrop.
Am I still allowed to make fun of the drunks when I come home intoxicated?
Yes. Yes. I am.
“I love you foreeevvvverrr.”
That’s probably a lie.
It's not about the number of times you fall down, it's about the number of shots you'll have tonight to forget about falling down.
Girls: Woooo! We’re goin’ to the bars!
Girl: Woooo!
**THUD**
Girls: OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY? OH NO! ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY?
Girl: Wooooo! We’re goin’ to the bars!
Well, they still recognize their basic colors and items.
- Drunk guy #1: CAR!
- Drunk guy #2: YEP THERE'S A CAR.
- Drunk guy #3: CAR! CAR! RED CAR!
Playing catch (500) in the parking lot at 11pm on a Tuesday is a great idea you guys.
Pause only for the ladies who are walking through towards the bars.
Late at night in the parking lot, I can hear the hearts of several drunks sink into their stomachs whenever the police sirens go off.
Follow me! Follo--oh you get the idea.
- Girl 1: Follow me! Follow me! Follow me!
- Girl 2: Do you know where you're going?
- Girl 1: Follow me! Follow me! Follow me!
- Girl 2: I hurt my toe.
- Girl 1: Follow me!