I'm wearing my Salvation Army holiday sweater. I know why they call them sweaters, cause I'm hot...
Anyway, I'm old. No, really. At the New Year's Party, we watched someone get pulled over from the roof of my boyfriend's place. We all hunkered down on the roof to watch a girl wearing short shorts in December get handcuffed after failing all the tests... We are bad people.
Wear pants? Problem solved!
So four scared people stayed the night, probably rightfully so. Who wants to get a DUI on New Year's. We pulled out sheets and blankets, bed and breakfast style. And, you know what? I kind of liked it. If I didn't have work the next day, I would have made them all eggs and coffee.
All sorts of situations are pointing to adulthood. I have a baby shower in a few days. I have to make eight thousand dozen cupcakes, and a lot of mini-quiches, and its in a church and this is a run-on sentence and I started a new scarf. But I love parties so much that I will rock this shit out. With my hypothetical cock out.
Also, I'm drunk.
What up blog?!
Living up to my title.
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