To Find My Wooden Leg!
“Dude, did you call my ex last night?”
“Um. Yeah, that sounds sort of familiar.”
“Like, five times?”
“Huh, I think me and Adam tag teamed her voicemail box. You told us to call the first time.”
“She said someone with a really deep voice did the entire milkshake monologue.”
“That sounds like something I would do.”
“Then you guys sang ‘Shipping Up to Boston’.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. She called me this morning and wants to hang out.”
“You’re welcome.”
“With you.”
“Oh. Awesome.”
“Asshole.”
“So, can I get her number or…”
“Man… Fuck you.”
Happy Irish Hangover Day!
March 18, 2009 at 2:35 pm
st patrick’s day is like new years eve. i stay in. too many amateurs out there… don’t like getting my shoes puked upon. especially when the beer has been dyed green.
March 18, 2009 at 6:24 pm
He seems to be taking it pretty well. You should leave your readers drunken voicemails!
March 19, 2009 at 7:59 am
Daisyfae, yeah, I was one of them. Not puking, just an amateur. My tolerance is like that of a ballerina.
Dr. K: Ha. I actually did just that with an older website. People would email me their numbers and when I got drunk and bored (which was often) I would call them. It was fun. I could definitely use some more drunk dial material.