So at this point in my life I'm fairly drunk. I have had 11 Busch Light in the time it has taken me to watch The Patriot. In my calculations that is a damn good amount so I'm feeeling fairly good about myself.
If anyone reads this or my other diary entre please write me back and let know. I really want to strike up a conversation with you.
The Next Morning.
So I did get on here last night, I thought I did but I could not be sure. I'll give you all a little better account of what happened last night.
Overall last night was a damn good time. I had my 11 Busch Light and helped walk my friends home. At this point in my life distance means nothing so a walk across campus seemed like a good idea. From my dorm to Rather is more than a mile, and thats if you take a straight route and not go by way of Taco Bell. We get to Rather and I decide to just crash in my friends room. Well his girlfriend was with us so after only a few minutes on the floor I decide to give them some time alone and I left. Bad idea.
This part of campus is all appartments and such so there is not a straight road anywhere. I wandered around for probally 30 minutes trying to find my way out. I was followed by a police officer for a good 10 minutes which made my paranoid and added to the hilarity of the night. I finally find my way to a Wilson, a road that I walk every day. Now its just a straight shot to my dorm as long as I can avoid every pair of headlights which I always assume are police but never are.
Next to the tennis courts are some porta-jons and someone has already tipped one over so I thought why the hell not and tipped one over. (I know everyone of you has wanted to do the same thing before) This gets me even more paranoid so I spend the rest of the walk home hiding in shrubs ever time I see headlights and running through areas without any cover.
It was a great night and makes for a funny ass story, to bad I didn't get any scars to commemorate the event.
Oh, I have an interesting story for you.
Josiah and I already knew a bunch of guys down here from his brother Pete going to college here. Well it would be two weeks ago we went over and hung out with them at FarmHouse, a frat they are in. I had eight beers in about three hours and was fairly drunk and tired so I went home to sleep. I remember going to bed and falling asleep at round midnight.
Well Josiah and Stoney came home at around 3 A.M. and Stoney went to piss. As he was undoing his pants he noticed some blood on the floor, it turned out to be a shit-ton of blood, and a pair of feet sticking out of the shower, Stoney then woke me up.
So I wake up in the shower with Stoney saying "Dude what happened there is blood everywhere?" So I stand up and sure enough there is a shit-ton of blood all over the floor and all over my right shin. So I precede to clean up the floor and take a shower.
DISCLAIMER: The following is only a speculation as to what really happened, there is no record of these sequence of events, mentally or electronicly.
It turns out that I must have fallen off my bed, which is about six feet off the ground, and hit my shin on my desk. I then landed standing on my knees because both knees are bruised to hell and the joint about my right big toe is broken. I then stood up and walked to the bathroom, tripping a few feet outside the bathroom, then crawling the next eight or so feet to the shower and going to sleep.
As of now my shin still hurts and bleeds, my knees hurt when I bend them, and my foot still hurts like a bitch.
All in all it was one hell of a night and will definantly be a great story to tell again and again.
P.S. For all of you that want to use this as an example to not drink, out of the multitude of times I have been drunk in the past five years this is the first that I have hurt myself and I blame it completly on the fact that I was sleeping in a new bed.
Holy shit! I can't believe I forgot about Elftown for so long, well I did go without the internet for most of it. Well I'm back now *plays hero music*