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Animals, kids, and drunk people trying their best—and failing HARD!

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No sober person has ever walked into a nightclub and said: “I like this. Let’s spend more time in places like this.”

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I traded a shoe for a bowling pin and the secret knowledge of how to get into the goblin kingdom.

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I for one have never had a drunken night of dancing that ended well.

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When someone asks me to join them on the dance floor and I’m sober, I’m like…

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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.

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‘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.’

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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?

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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.

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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.