Month: January 2004

hells yeah. No boys in the house. This means Risa and I can do makeovers, play video games without the snarky boys thinking they’re all that, and cook naked. Maybe we’ll make out or something. I want to replace Gumphood’s [aw man, now I can’t use his real name here! ugh] and John’s toilet seat cover with a naked man, like I read in that book…

but I’m a broke ass.

I don’t feel as pressured to be entertaining in this diary, because all 3 of you who read this, don’t care about writer’s integrity nor do you care about being entertained…you just like hearing rigmarole.

And that’s fine when I’m in a rambling sort of mood.

I feel that I will be in better spirits if [or when? should i be so confident? no..] I find out if I have the AVID job. God, like, I would feel like my life would be coming together.

I haven’t been very fair to my housemates as of late…sort of pushing all of them away and becoming more withdrawn, depressed and snappy….and I get surprised that I’m so snappy.

Case and point [or is it case in point?]: Lisa, Alan, John and I were shopping in Target and I was talking about when I had a chance to get my room together and get some actual furniture

and John said: “Yeah…so WHEN are you getting your room together?”

and I completely snapped. I said something like “When I get a fucking job you fucking muthafucker”

Immediately, I felt bad about saying that, but I didn’t know how to retract my statement, so..I guess, he hates me now. Oh well.

Dude, it’s so cold here. It’s like -1000 degrees. Like, it hurts to BREATHE outside. Man, where’s the fucking snow? Like, if it’s going to be cold, make it a winter wonderland.

The wind chill factor is like -infinity degrees and it’s so loud that it wakes me up…and I can usually sleep through…well, I don’t know…I’m actually a light sleeper…scratch that.

I’m doing something semi productive like, reading a book called “The Exaltation of Larks” I feel like, smart again or somethign.

I’m also writing a feature script about my family…because in retrospect, we’re pretty damned weird and we’re pretty distant..but I know we still care for each other.

Of course, in the script, I’m the fuck-up. I feel bad for my sister for having an older sister as a fuck-up.

Thank god she didn’t fuck up like I did. but I will make it up to her this year and then she’ll be proud.

I just noticed–how much I’m afraid my family thinks I’m a fuck up.

oh well, too late now.

I’m too lazy to write anything interesting here, so I’m just going to cheat in this entry and show you photographs of my roommates.

Please note that Gump is not in these pictures because he was not home at this time. This blows, so I’ll have a photo extravaganza of him sometime in the future, or whatever.

Here’s my attempt at being artsy: Behold! A cup!

This picture was taken by Kevin. His attempt? To make me look like a drug addict whore. I was told that I just looked confused. Further, you can’t see it, but he put the numbers 911 on the cell phone. Heh heh heh

This is continuing the drug addled fantasy. Me stuffing bills down my shirt (oh yeah, all 8 bucks) and Lisa..caressing her gun.

This is me caressing Kevin’s gun:

This is a culmination of all the people who live on the third floor. Notice the awesome photography..yeah, that was me.

The Ready and Kerbang series: (Okay, it’s only three pictures…taken by yours truly)

Taking out frustration on a pillow:

Can YOU dear reader, interpret the profound revelations and ramifications of this picture? Yeah, me neither.

And at the end of the day, Kerbang still loves Ready. They will make sweet love under the moonlight and wake up Gump from his rest:

The video game series:

These are all pictures taken whilst playing Soul Caliber II:

In this picture, can you tell who’s winning and who’s losing?

Now this is just shameless…did Kerbang REALLY have to do that to my fragile ego?

But then, I came back and kicked his ass. It’s allpart of the plan, man.

Later that night, my hair was bothering me and I threw up in a fountain head a la 80s style and I had to change my shirt because ahem, SOMEONE (psst: Lisa) spilled water down my back.

Call this a reenactment of Lisa spilling water down my back or me smelling John’s horrific gas [is there a nicer term than gas?].

Ahh, but at the end of the night, after all the deaths and carnage of Soul Caliber II [go Seung Mina and your bad ass muumuu and broom!] We were all still friends.

Awww…

the lovers

the dreamers

and me

SIGH. I love this song.

Anyway, I woke up mad early today because I’m having nightmares about not having a job. I’ve been told that this is complete protocol–that it takes awhile to hear back from a company about a job, for the following reasons:

*They may still be interviewing
*They may have a big project and they’re super busy [jeff said it was pretty busy]
*The interviewers [i had four] may have not had a chance to get together to talk about the candidates. This makes me feel a little better.

but regardless, I still woke up early and watched two muppet movies: The Muppet Movie and Muppets Take Manhattan. They’re timeless.

So I spent the rest of the afternoon [awake] reading about Jim Henson and the Muppets. I used to be obsessed with Kermit the Frog although I’m finding I’m starting to like Scooter a whole bunch.

But that, again, could be the glasses.

I feel like a loser.

I talked to my friend Ben last night, who just told me one of the best experiences he ever had was hanging out with me and said that there is no shame in moving back to california.

Talk about worse case scenario!

But sometimes, you have to fight for what you really want. I mean, who wants something coveted when its easy to get?

This is like waiting for NYU to accept my ass. I was completely prepared to get the rejection letter but deep down, I felt, “how could they NOT accept me? I rock?!” and although everyone was positive I would make it into film school, I still had the nagging doubts and thinking about Plan B– to pursue medical school or being an editor.

So, my experience is like that–waiting to be accepted. Probably going to be rejected.

Worse feeling in the world I think. Even worse than being rejected — because at least you know where you stand.

Anyway, enough about me bitching.

I’m going to talk about two things today: Platonic friends and depression. Neither is related to the other, I wanted to do an entry on one or the other and decided to do both in one entry.

First off–depression.

I am depressed. This is terrible because it’s been quite a long time since I’ve felt this way. I understand depression comes in waves (Like you feel really good for a while, then shitty, then good, then shitty).

I feel like I have a very high threshold for my susceptibility to depression, as in, I have to be going through a LOT to go through it because not a lot REALLY bothers me. However, take into account:

1. I have essentially NO monetary value at this point.
2. I have no job
3. I have no friends here other than my roommates
4. I have no job
5. I am a disappointment (at this point in time), I feel, to my roommates and my parents.

Don’t get me wrong, I do not want to move back to California. I feel Boston was a good decision. I feel if I get a phone call today or tomorrow about a job I really want, then all this depression and this stress will be worth it. I do have a contingency plan but I really don’t want to do it.

Things I like about Boston:

I like the history/historic sites
I LOVE the accents
I like the snow (believe it or not. It’s like, woah, seasons!)
Even though I have a limited amount of contacts, everyone I met, I like thus far.
I LOVE the fact that this is a big stand-up comedy town and can’t wait to see the comedy clubs
I like how you can take the subway (dubbed the “T”) or take the car. You don’t have to have one or the other (Wherein in NY, good luck with having a car and in California, good luck NOT having a car)
I love my rent
I love how this is a big sports town and their teams actually win (I’m sorry Chargers/Padres, I had to say it)
The boys are pretty cute and they don’t seem to care about having hair products in their hair (Woah!)

Things that are preventing me to do anything:

I cannot visit the historic sites because I must conserve gas to go to the grocery store or to do pertinent stuff
I have limited amount of contacts because I am home all the time
I cannot see or go to the stand-up comedy clubs because I have no money
I can only use the T or the car for super special events (because I have no money)
My rent is still pretty cool but all of my first paycheck will go to it. (i.e. I cannot decorate my room or contribute to the apartment for that matter until February)
I am a disappointment to my parents because they have to cover for me until I get this first and second paycheck
I am a disappointment to my roommates because I can never buy beer for the house or buy something cool for the house because I am a brokeass.

Most of the time, I just want to hide out in my room in shame, guilt and disappointment.

Mentally, I know that this will pass and I will have a job and the aforementioned entry will be a forgotten memory.

Emotionally, I feel like shit and it feels like I will NEVER get a job.

Thanks to my California friends who called me. It made me feel better (I mean, how can I stay depressed with them?)

Oh and thanks to Risa who listens to me bitch constantly. And while I’m going academy award style, thanks to Kevin for apologizing to me for setting me off with one comment

(Sidenote: I was in such a bad mood and everything built up into this mountain of annoyance [and I was trying really hard to seem calm about my depression] that when Kevin said [after I spilled a drink] “This is why we can’t have nice things and why girls shouldn’t watch football with us”–I pretty much imploded and exploded simulataneously and made a scene. GAH.)

Thanks to Kerbang for having to watch me burst into tears (HOW FUCKING EMBARRASSING) and Gump for trying to cheer me up last night by doing a pseudo-charlie-chaplin sweater routine.

Speaking of which, yesterday Kerbang and I went to the “film guy” as I like to call him and afterwards, I was STARVING, so I called my bank account to check my balance..and it said I had, oh god, I don’t think i can type it out but I had an astonishingly low amount and Kerbang heard the balance and said “You only have so and so amount?” HOW FUCKING EMBARRASSING! I nearly died in the car. I don’t think Kerbang noticed how I almost died.

And here’s the thing: I am not this drama queen. I am not this depressed and disappointing woman. I am not a sloth that’s good for nothing. I feel that I having not been giving a true depiction of myself to these people and hope that they don’t hate me before the end of the week (Each day gets worse and worse as I wait for the phone call).

Waiting SUCKS FUCKING ASS!!

Oh well, I’m going to write about my platonic friends in my next entry.

P.S. I should find my brother’s Rodney Harrison Jersey when he played for the Chargers and wear it here. I feel like i would be sort of supporting both teams. How cool would that be? heh heheh hehhehehehe (I’m really not laughing)

P.P.S. I love the Colts. Can I go against them this upcoming game? I don’t know! I don’t know if I can do it! Can I turn my back to Peyton Manning?

I was in a mood for a muppet movie today (Kerbang has, I think, all of the muppet movies) and borrowed his “Great Muppet Caper.”

Can I just say, this movie is FUCKING AWESOME? I’m actually watching it again. Okay, I’m actually watching the “Miss Piggy it’s you” synchornized swimming bit.

When I was younger, I loved this movie and used to watch it constantly on the Disney Channel (or some other movie).

Now that I’m older, I am AMAZED how they made this movie (because when you’re younger you really can’t appreciate the filmmaking) and made it look so effortless.

I mean, if you watch “The Great Muppet Caper” and “Armaggeddon” back to back, it’s OBVIOUS which film is the better film and which had the more talented actors (i.e. muppets).

I mean, only comic brilliance would try to make a movie where Fozzie and Kermit the Frog would be identical twins (Fozzie has to put on the hat)

Furthermore, which movie needed CGI?

P.S. If you received a drunken note from my roommates, please be advised that you only got a drunken note–I had to smell the constant gas. Ugh.

I am in an awful mood.

Probably in the worst mood I have been in a long long time.

My parents woke me up this morning and asked about my financial situation. Let’s just say, it ended badly on my end.

I told my mother about the editing interview and then she said “What about directing? Don’t get stuck editing when you want to direct.” I tried to tell her that at least an editing job was in my FIELD (versus the lawfirm job).

Furthermore, my parents (yes, my mom AND dad) talked about money and bills. It is not looking good at all.

Not at all.

I am seriously going to apply to KFC or Starbucks or something. I need money, like nothing else.

The Patriots game is today but I am such in a bad mood, I”m going to stay in my room and cry.

Since I cried after I hung up with my parents.

I’m a terrible person.

Wow.

One of Sandy’s friends hates me. She really hates me.

I woke up early today because I have an interview for an editing console place and I was nervous about getting lost. So, I just had to look up a map. After looking up the website, I decided to take a peek at diaryland.

One person updated: Lobsterchick (aka Sandy). It was an entry for Bowling for Columbine and how it was an awesome movie (it really is, you guys should check it out.)

I went to leave a comment for Sandy [I was going to say “check out the commentary, Michael Moore has his secretaries and production assistants (the lowest position on the food chain of film) do the commentary!”] I was even going to add a superfluous exclamation mark for emphasis.

Of COURSE, you’re going to read the comments people had left before you add your own. In doing so, I found a comment addressed to me:

BT – 2004-01-09 04:18:53

Sharon, you are a bitch, who sucks bumpy lardy ass. I hope that you find a nice, cushy job in Boston where you can be the judgemental bitch that you are…Everyday I will remind you that you are just horrible. Oh, just reread what you wrote and figure it out for yourself! Lazy selfish bitch. How Sandy is friends with you is a question for the gods…BT

So, first of all, I was taken aback. I mean, that was a really hostile comment to me, for me and about me…on another person’s diary? At first, I didn’t know what I did (I mean, was Kerbang really THAT mad at me for taking those drunk pictures?)

Then, I remembered, Sandy had told me [a long time ago] that BT was a friend of hers. I also remember seeing her picture when Sandy and DS (Deadsoon) went out for a birthday (I believe it was Sandy’s). So it’s a friend of Sandy who hates me.

Great!

Sandy’s friend(s) already hate me for the Citizen Kane comment (You’re going to have to look for it on Sandy’s diary, if you really want to know) because I said that Citizen Kane was pretentious.

The problem with leaving notes in diaries is that you really can’t elaborate why you left said comment. Usually comments are kind of goofy or off the wall (read Gumphood). However, if there is an entry that strikes a nerve you can either : a) write an elaborate comment (read: an essay) or b) write a comment that sort of scrapes the surface.

I really don’t like leaving long comments, so I gave the gist on Sandy’s diary and people got PISSED!

People, you’re channeling too much energy in being pissed at the wrong people for the wrong reasons. But for my sake, I’m very opinionated and am not afraid to say things that I have a very high opinion about. Conversely, if you are very opinionated about something (i.e. let’s say you hate a movie..let’s say Fight Club, because I love that movie..or even Sneakers (because many people disagree that is a good movie)) and say “God, fucking Sneakers sucks ass.” I’m not going to get angry. I’m just not that type of person. First, I figure out why you think Sneakers is a badly done movie. Second, I will try to talk to you why you feel that way so hostilely. Usually, though, I don’t get upset.

However, I usually don’t hang out with people so…hostile but, really people laid-back, so the aforementioned situation would never happen.

This is not to say leaving a hostile comment is a bad thing. That only shows how passionate you are about said entry or said comment or whatever has upset you. On the flip side, not being very hostile or having much passion (which is my case) makes you a person who doesn’t really get very excited.

Well, BT didn’t leave just one comment, she left three. On Sandy’s previous entry, she wrote:

BT – 2004-01-09 04:10:28

Sharon, you suck hairy ass. I’ll say it every day.

Well, yeah, I do. I usually tell the guy to shave. I’m not ashamed!

And here’s the culprit, why BT started this rampage against me:

Sharon – 2004-01-08 14:06:14

I read this and I get pissed off too–why don’t people you love know how much you care about them? What do you have to do make him see that he needs to take care of himself? I’m sorry, I don’t know DS but I mean, I’m frustrated. It’s great that he has a awesome friend such as yourself who cares so much. It’s sucks that he is too selfish to notice what his lack of motivation to get his ass in the hospital is doing to those who love him. I hope it all works out. You have a sounding board in my if you need one. (long note action)

In response:

BT – 2004-01-09 04:07:49

Sharon, You’re a dumbass. That’s all I have. BT.

So, this is what started the anger streak. I suppose putting some energy in telling me that I am hated and I suck is to be commended because, I could never do it.

I certainly struck a nerve.

But here is what I have to say, and pay attention because this is an explanation, not an excuse:

1. I left that comment after have chatted with Sandy online and knowing that she was upset about the situation she wrote about. I was upset because she was upset (because I consider her a friend, and I don’t like seeing my friends upset) and I wanted her to know that I knew how she felt and that if she needed a sounding board, I would be there for her.

2. I left that comment knowing the converse side. You see, when I was 16, I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I didn’t try to commit suicide once, but twice. I don’t talk about it too much because I think a lot of people in high school think life sucks and think suicide is an alternative etcetera etcetera, so I figure it’s usually a phase.

When I was in college, I tried to do it AGAIN. I refused to get help for said affliction in high school and I refused help in college.

And that pissed my best friends OFF.

I was lectured, yelled at, screamed at and was written a letter at how stupid and selfish I am and am being…and since I refused to get help, my best friends couldn’t be my friends anymore because I was being so selfish.

And I was.

Ultimately, I was forcibly put in the hospital and had to stay there for nearly 2 weeks and had to see a psychotherapist for a couple of months. My last day in the hospital, I was stoked. I called one of my best friends “A.J.” and told him that we could hang out again and I was super happy that I was leaving.

However, when I was talking to him, he began to cry.

Why are you crying?

He said he couldn’t hang out with me anymore. He said that I hurt him too much and that I was too selfish and he could never forget that. Not right now anyway.

Then I said “Selfish? How so?”

And (through his tears) he said “If you don’t know how much I love and care about you that you tried to take your life away, you are selfish. Did you even THINK how this would affect me or others? Did you even THINK what you were doing to the people you love? Of course not, you’re DEPRESSED. But, I can’t be friends who can make me love them and care for them and then try to leave in the worst way possible. It makes me angry every time I look at you.”

I began to cry because I knew A.J. was serious and I knew my best friend was leaving me.

And he did.

And I had to pick up my life and start over because, you have to keep moving.

And although that event wanted me to take my life AGAIN (because, that means, officially (sort of) nobody really cared).

But then, I had to do it.

I had to face my shit.

Anyway, with this as my backstory, I knew what Sandy was going through because I was on the other end..and I wanted to express my concern for her and know that I was there for her because she has been my sounding board of frustration countless times.

3. After said entry, I spoke to DS online (to elaborate on my Citizen Kane comment) and, I think, we got along fine. I told him I was going to be his comedy whore (because he does sketch comedy which…gaaah, is crazy sexy). Now, he might hate me too because I left that comment, but again, I didn’t do it to make him angry (well, maybe a tiny bit, to make him think what he was doing to people who loved and cared about him), I did it to console Sandy.

4. That being said, I’m not angry. Truthfully, I’m a little hurt. I guess hurt that I was told that I was being judgmental (even though I had my well thought-out reasons) and I was a lazy bitch and all that.

Well, maybe judgmental…but aren’t you judging me when you declare that I am judgmental?

Furthermore, I am a lazy selfish bitch..but usually you have to hang out with me for about a day or two to figure that out.

So, I’m hurt that you hit me dead on without hanging out with me.

So I am SUPER awake super early in the morning. I went to bed around 1am or 2am and woke up at 8:30 a.m. because I’m so nervous about this job. However, I read my horoscope and it says (basically) I will be my most charismatic on January 9.

January 9 is today!

What if I become so cocky and superconfident that I override my charisma gene? AHH.

Jupiter will also blah blah blah…and will endow you with the gift of clear and persuasive communication skills. Don’t underestimate the power of words — written or spoken! [I wonder if I can get a man on this day as well] All full moons are operative plus or minus four days (blah blah blah) from the day on which they fall, but one day I would like to hold out to you as a winner is January 9, sure to be one of your favorite days of the month.

Alternatively, on January 9 you might decide to do some focused self-promotion. Send out post cards about yourself, your goods and services, or do more sophisticated advertising and publicity. Your efforts would be well spent. The results should be impressive! All kinds of communications and efforts to sell, negotiate or persuade would be richly rewarded at this time.

In the background, Mars will substantially brighten your career prospects. This is headline news — you haven’t seen anything this vital in two years. If you have to make a change, or if you are wondering when to unveil your biggest, boldest and most courageous professional plans, the answer is from January 7 to February 7 — no earlier, no later. Mars will help you come across as confident, assertive, and willing to pioneer into the unknown, all VERY attractive qualities. However, sometimes Mars makes a person more quarrelsome, so you might have to watch that — you don’t want to spoil things by going over the edge this month.

continue entry Well, I moved to Boston didn’t I?

I just need a job and I’ll be happy.

Okay, a job and lots of sex. Well, I’ll settle for an awesome boyfriend.

Okay, that’s not asking a lot, is it?

I am getting very worried but I don’t want to reveal how worried I am. I’m really pinning all my hopes on an interview tomorrow for (insert Technology company here). I do hope I’ll get this job, then I would be making a sufficient amount of money to live comfortably.

And so I don’t have to get another job.

If worse comes to worse, I’m going to get two retail jobs or something. However, it seems that everything closes at 10 p.m. and I need things to be open later than that.

Dunkin’ Donuts, here I come?

ugh.

dear god, please please please let me have this job. pleasepleaseplease. I need to work.

I’ve been going to bed to 5 a.m. every mornign and waking up at 1 p.m.

Okay, enough of this crap. I’ve got top ramen to eat.

I haven’t been updating lately because I knew I would have to finish the road trip entry and I really didn’t want to do it. So you know what?

Fuck the continuation of the road trip entry. If I’m in a mood later on, I’ll reference the previous entry and continue. Long story short—we got to New York in time (just in the NICK of time), there was an open bar, I saw all the Queer Eye guys (who are not much taller than I, and dude, Ted needed a HAIRCUT!!), saw them dance onstage at one point, very drunk (hehhehheh), I got wasted and somehow started making out with some 40 year old guy.

Okay, he was really 37.

Regardless, like it really mattered. We were making out on the dance floor, on the stairs, by the bar, in the back room, etc etc. It was getting quite hot and heavy and then it happened.

I started to sober up.

And I noticed I was making out with a 37 year old guy and I increasingly got sober, his looks became decreasingly attractive. So (much to his protest to continue the party “somewhere else”) I walked my ass back to the hotel room. My feet were KILLING me but I didn’t care. I think I started to walk barefoot at one point. Then I was watching “A Few Good Men” and passed out.

I woke up the next morning to find I was in a strange room. Why the fuck am I sleeping on a twin bed? I shoot up and find ANOTHER twin bed…with a GUY IN IT! AHHHH!!!! And I look around, completely confused. Then, (if you have watched “Finding Nemo” you’ll get this reference) I saw a duffle bag..and all of a sudden a quick montage of leaving san diego-driving across the country-kerbang passing gas-getting stuck in a blizzard-getting lost in Washington-being drunk-making out–…just flew at me, and I knew where I was. Egad.

No matter how long it is that you’ve kissed a guy (more than a year for me) dude, it’s not worth it. Well, maybe a little bit (I feel all gross and shit).

**

Speaking of parties…

My roommates and I had a New Year’s Eve party which I referenced in an earlier entry (should I go or should I stay..is that a Specials song? I feel like it is.). Since I just got pictures developed, this is how it went:

Cast of characters:

Me: duh

Gump: Gump, his woman and friends from college were, basically, one collective

Kerbang: Kerbang had some of his friends over, who essentially came in shifts

Kevin: Kevin took care of the bulk of the party. I didn’t get to meet half of them (i.e. mostly the girls) but I did get to meet his guy friends who were very sweet and, as I told Kevin, I would probably go on a date with them if any of them asked. We shall see what happens with that (Kevin said a lot of them were interested…hmmm.. but he could be lying)

Risa: She went to her boyfriend’s house, so she’s not in these pictures (goddamnit!)

Basically, around 7 or 8 pm, Gump was gone with said collective to eat dinner, Kevin went to get a blender at his parents house. So, in the house, it was Kerbang and I and we were playing a video game. Light competition. I note how ‘banging’ our party is (as in, why are we the only ones here?) The other roomies start to trickle in. I make amaretto sours (I LOVE amaretto sours). I think I make Kerbang and I about 3 amaretto sours. We are pretty much sober.

So I present to you, The Degeneration of the Roommates Soberness.

In this picture, we are all sober. Chris (the one on the far left) is a friend of Kerbang’s from college (who I have met before) and for the purpose of this picture, will take Gump’s place. Notice the time: 9:00 p.m. Notice the cleanliness of the atmosphere. (I will reference this picture later)

Here is a picture of me and Datchery (Kerbang’s brother) at the beer pong table. If you notice, I am slightly inebriated at this point:

Here is a picture of me and Gump…slightly inebriated. Now where the hell is Gump’s hand? Hmmm….

So a couple hours go by. I have had many amaretto sours and many beers…so have my roommates. I tend to get … “adversarial” least to say, when I’m drunk (read: I get mean, SUPPOSEDLY. I think I get playful, truth be told, but the think mean. I digress).

At one point, I was talking to a old high school friend of bang, gump and ready. Her name was Kim (who was sporting a leather jacket and a blonde braid..wherein the rest of her hair is black. I found that quite interesting) who I was asking about the boys when they were younger. Then we exchanged stories and I said at one point “Oh yeah, Kerbang, he’s a lightweight. He can’t hold his liquor”

Kerbang was standing behind me.

And he said (drunkedly) “What?! I will DRINK YOU UNDER THE TABLE!” ( I wanted to say, well, I will drink you over, under and through the table but I didn’t think it was a very clever saying). The reason I said Kerbang was a lightweight was because the last party we were at, he hurled (i.e. vomited, blew chunks, blew cookies..etc) all night. So begins, who is more drunk contest? Kerbang or me? Competition was fierce (I think because we both like to be more ‘right’ than the other) and hence, throughout the whole night, I kept hearing “I WILL DRINK YOU UNDER THE TABLE” which means—whoever vomited first was the loser.

So here we are, intermediately inebriated:

and as the night went on, I took a drunk picture with Datchery. Seriously, I don’t remember taking this picture:

Now, look at the sober picture and the room and the table. Look how clean it is (so f-f-fresh and so clean clean). NOW look at the table:

At this point, we are pretty drunk. Look at the difference (this is around one in the morning):

Now, the contest of who will drink under the table was still in full force. I look the most drunkest, however, I was not doing drunken activity. To PROVE to everyone that I was the winner of said contest and that Kerbang is more drunk than I, I challenged Kerbang.

I told him that he never used his Nordic Chair and that he never worked out (or something)…and like [a fish to water] he said, “OH YEAH? I’LL SHOW YOU!!” He immediately ripped off his tops/sweaters/shirt.

And started to work out on his Nordic Chair thingy.

At 3:00 in the morning.

To prove me wrong.

Where all he did was prove me right (as in he is a drunk ass). However, I was also SLIGHLY drunk, so I took way too many pictures than I should:

He said “Oh god, I’m going to regret this, but I don’t care”:

And let me ask you, dear readers, WHO WON THIS CHALLENGE? (If you think it is Kerbang, look at this picture):

Yeah, I thought so. I stand victorious.