St. Valentines: The Morning After
Can’t remember if you enjoyed your Valentine Day’s Eve?
Here are some tipoffs that indicate you did:
- You wake up with a pocketful of IPA coasters and a mouthful of someone else’s underwear. (Note: if it’s your own underwear, for God’s sake stay home next year.)
- You’ve got 14 voice mails and twice as many e-mails praising your performance in a YouTube video posted at 3:30 a.m. Not coincidentally, there are pieces of velcro in your pubic hair.
- The police kick in your door to arrest you for something but break down in laughter after seeing your sorry ass. They start calling you “McLovin” give you a mild ass-kicking.
- That weird crust in your ear turns out to be dried Jaegermeister, not blood. Or semen for that matter.
Conversely, you did not have a good time if any of these apply:
- You find a real arrow shot through your ass cheek.
- There’s a hamster cage in your bedroom. And you’re not a pet owner. And the cage is empty.
- You’re asphyxiating because you drank three quarts of malt liquor and fell asleep while trying to take your pants off over your head.
- You wake up with the Burger King in your bed and the taste of secret sauce in your mouth.
Pregnun image from here.
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