I had fourteen adult beverages last night. Okay, well, thirteen. I don't think that last one was in me long enough to count.
My head hurts. Loudly.
Many thanks to Writer Guy and Waste for their efforts to remove me from the nice cold tile between the toilet and the wall where I had passed out cold. Everyone claims I totally walked myself up the stairs. I don't know how that was possible.
Many thanks to Waste for kneeling behind me and holding my hair. And then when it got worse, holding my whole head out of the toilet, and when it got really bad, holding up my whole body.
The party itself was nice. Everyone seemed to have fun. The house wasn't too much of a wreck this morning. It seemed to be pretty okay. And the sound of hitting the keys makes my brain scream. I have to go now.
