Animals, kids, and drunk people trying their best—and failing HARD!
No sober person has ever walked into a nightclub and said: “I like this. Let’s spend more time in places like this.”
I traded a shoe for a bowling pin and the secret knowledge of how to get into the goblin kingdom.
I for one have never had a drunken night of dancing that ended well.
When someone asks me to join them on the dance floor and I’m sober, I’m like…
In the case of “Zombie,” no one really knows more than ten words to it, anyway, so as long as you can shout “Zombay-ay-ay!” and “In your head! In your hay-ay-ay-ead!,” you’re more than in.
‘This is a wonderful day,’ I thought. ‘My ego is a fat hungry polar bear, and these girls are tossing it penguins by the dozen.’
Eye color? I know I have a soft-spot for pretty blue eyes, but does it actually make a difference what color they are as long as there’s love behind them when they look back at you?
I looked at all of the young, attractive people on the train and suddenly became overwhelmed with the sense that this was THE snapshot of my young adult life: Traveling to Bedford on a Friday night to some unknown party while being surrounded by people who look and act just like me.
I know this sounds hypocritical (welcome to humanity) but I really hate drunk people. I hate them even when I’m drunk. I look at their droopy faces and delayed reactions and want to shake them back to sobriety.