Dear Blacking Out,

Aha! I've been wondering if we were ever going to meet. I'm amazed I made it this far in my charmed life without bumping into you, you asshole. You see, baby, I was blessed with a built in mechanism called "a weak stomach" that always had me gracefully hovering over the Porcelain Goddess before you'd roll in.

But about last night... You're not all fratarded fun and games like I sometimes hear about, eh? You're actually nothing but an embarrassing date that haunts me in the form of flashbacks and scoldings. And you're a liar. You were like, "Haha, let's say totally outlandish things to people who will later harshly judge us! Everyone's doing it!" No, Blacking Out, not everyone was doing it. And they weren't giggling or falling down either. And sending me outside in a just a T-shirt when I live in the damn tundra? That was just mean.

I gave you a chance, but I'm afraid you're just not my type. Go find yourself a high schooler who doesn't know better.

Back off,

1 comment:

BL said...

i know this pain well... now, imagine if your tolerance was so high that getting drunk meant that you blacked-out everytime. pretty shitty, right? welcome to my life.