Drinking Cranberry Jews

I have been a very good girl for the past few months. I have not smoked, drank, pill-popped, tripped, screwed, or scammed for a good 2-3 months. I've been virtuous and polite, academically oriented and scholastically committed. I've been an upstanding moral citizen. I've been so good, and God was it boring.

So last night, I went to Denver with Blonde (who is no longer speaking to Brunette, score!) and we hung out with a whole bunch of gay college kids. There was beer and tequila and lots of weed and I could not help but partake of the illegally distributed fun. I got pretty twisted (which, for you straight edges out there, is when one is both drunk and high at the same time) and got hit on by a 21 year-old named Cody.

Also, in my drunken stupor, I began texting a certain Manwhoreboy, with purely friend-oriented advances, really, except he proceeded to tell me about all the girls he's had sex with since me and that he wants to try to have a relationship with me, but he wants to start slow. I turned the motherfucker down, politely, but it was hard to reply without any "haha"s or "lols"s because, honestly, what the hell is he thinking, telling me about every girl he's gotten in the sack and then asking for me back? Does he think it's romantic to tell me I'm beautiful at 2 am in some text messages and that he wants to see me again?
No, Mwb, even though I was so drunk that I could barely see straight, I still didn't want to see you again.

Ha.
Ew.
No.

Anyway, I'm rather glad that I broke my "good" streak. I think my life was boring because it was devoid of substance abuse and boy drama. Luckily, things are picking back up again and I now have time to get into shenanigans. Oh, delinquent life, I missed you.


Sizzzzzzle (the sound cannabutter makes)
Julia