White Thunder with a Chance of Vomit

Story Involves- White Thunder, Baby Blues, and Big Bob
November 27, 2009
Well once again shit got a little out of control when I was over-served on the Friday which just passed. I really think that these bars need to start flagging me before something extremely terrible occurs (its obviously not my fault I get as drunk as I do).
So as any other Friday would begin I finished my shift taking care of the local drunkards of the BLVD. During my shift I realized how bad I wanted a nice cold drink. Big Bob stopped by around 6pm and said that not too many of the guys were going out because they were saving themselves for Saturday's festivities. After realizing that I was not approving these thoughts, I respected it. So myself along with Big Bob and Baby Blues decided that we would go visit a friend of mine that works at a local hotspot (The Deck). Upon arrival I quickly realized that my girl Big Red was not there. Upset, I decided to start drinking heavily in hopes that I would not have to be the one driving home. We were then informed that the special not only included bottled beer for $1 but "middle shelf" mixed drinks as well. After hearing this the game was on. I went to my favored vodka and cranberry (no I was not on my period). At this point I really started feeling the drinks hitting me as they were my friends. I gave the bartender his tip so that I would not forget. Being thankful of the $15 gratuity, the drinks started to get a little stronger, better quality, and much faster. By 10pm I was unable to see any of the disgusting hogs that were occupying the bar. At this point we decided to leave and head closer to home. I then recalled that the entire day I only consumed about 6 hot wings from work and felt much more fucked up than usual at 10 at night. We arrived at our next destination only to find out that all of TWP was at the bar we chose to visit. $100, a heated argument with a friend of mine, and some spectacular dance moves it was now closing time and we were being asked to leave. On my way out I decided to take my ciggy and try to burn my cousins girlfriend on her arm (idr why but I am sure it was well deserved). At this point it was obvious that I could not just go home. After looking around I realized I was alone and that Big Bob and Baby Blues were no where to be found. Instead of calling them I took my chances at the local after hours club. This part of the night is very fuzzy and cannot really recall much of anything aside from the stories I was told the following day. The last thing I remember was being driven to my house by Captain Shawn and walked to my basement by one of the nicest kids I've ever met (we will refer to him as Marky Mark). This occurred around 3-3:30am from my best estimation. Around 6:30-7:00am I wake up to myself choking on my own vomit. Luckily I woke up turned to my side and continued to vomit on my floor, my shirt, couch, and pillow. Realizing that I was still too drunk to care, I stood up and fell on the smaller of the two couched and curled up in the fetal position. At 2pm I hear the worst thing imaginable at this time, my mother bitching at me for the large pile of vomit still laying on the couch and floor. I open my eyes, and find myself in nothing but my boxers and socks. My pants, wallet, phone, and dress shirt from the previous night are nowhere to be found. After a little searching I was able to find all of my possessions (aside from my dignity). After brushing my teeth, cleaning up my stomach contents, and smoking a little bit of that kush I began to feel a little better about myself both mentally and physically.