This morning I woke up with "STB" written on my hand. Whatever "STB" meant to me last night was apparently so important that I had to leave a note to remind myself to "STB" today. I have no idea what "STB" involves, but I better fucking do it.
UPDATE (10:15 AM): SPIN THE BOTTLE.
UPDATE (10:45 AM): Right. So, an explanation: I went to a show last night and thought that the very bland second opener (led by a girl who pretty much looked like she lived in my apartment building) would be good music to drunkenly make-out to. You know, just random crap that doesn't sound bad, but not good enough to distract you. (C'mon, I'm talking about drunkenly making-out. Your mind can be all over the place.) When I was thinking about that this morning, I remembered that when I went to bed last night I wrote "STB" on my hand because I wanted to suggest that there be Spin the Bottle this weekend (we've having a birthday party for Lisa, Steve, Kristin, and myself on Saturday). I'm so glad that I'm only half-way hungover now and that I can remember things.
But I'm still too hungover to write about my strictly-platonic Craigslist blind date. I'll do that tomorrow.
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1 comment:
Nice save-- Spin the Bottle was not what I was thinking at all. I was more along the lines of... Sell The Boat. Guess that's what they call super-imposing.
So chug some Gatorade and write a tell-all about the Craigslist date, already!
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