The morning after.
My head hurts, my nose is running and my farts are LADs (Loud And Deadly). If I never see another hot dog I will be okay with my life. Good thing I only have about 50 of them left over! The turnout for my end of summer jamboree was weak. I don't know why I bother. With most of the fellows I hang with being in Colorado, I was taking some chances to begin with. I'm happy that my friend Starlene came up from DC and popped in. And JV never does me wrong. You know your party is sad when you 50 year old neighbors survey the scene and demand you come to their house as their all day rager is winding down. I'm sure they were like, we could throw all this food away or we could just invite the neighbor guys over and watch them attack the plates of chicken like drunken cavemen.
Alcohol is an amazing elixir. If has some many effects, so of which are far reaching. For example, when you drink your inhibitions come down, you say things you might not say if you were sober. You find ugly people attractive, meaning when you are drunk you are attracted to personality, which is how is should be anyway. When you are drunk, you think you can eat a Habanero or clear the air on issues, when in reality you shouldn't try to do either because you are drunk. Perhaps this is the beauty of being drunk? I don't know. I do know that I hate seeing friends fight when they are drunk. But I love seeing a guy wrestle with the pain caused by the fucking Habanero.
Sidenote: For someone who hates Guacamole, I sure as hell ate a ton of it.
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