Last night, after I was done talking to the random strange guy from the bar who followed me to the convenience store (maybe I invited him to tag along, not really sure - either way, he told me he was homeless, living at Covenant House... I made him recite the address to prove that this was true... then I think I gave him $10 and jumped in my cab to go home), I couldn't find the cab chit that Pretty Like a Movie Star had apparently just given me (found it this morning - in my clutch, obv) I had to get the driver to pull over at the bank, where two GIANT police officers were hanging out... they held the door for me while I stumbled around which was amazing... and then I did a cannonball into my bed, fully dressed - minus shoes, thank god - and promptly announced to the talent that I was shitfaced and about to puke. He ran around half-asleep trying to find a)a pail for me to puke in (false alarm - thank god), and b)my cat (OBV - what else do I scream for when I'm drunk?)
