I was drunk.
Drunkity, drunk drunk.
It started on December 19, when I landed in Edmo and continued until January 2, when I put down my last drink.
While I was at Jarod and Steve's I polished off their big bottle of Baileys and a ton o beer. At my parents, it was a well-stocked liquor cabinet that kept me ... sedated.
The real trouble began December 27th, when Ron, Big Daddy, and I watched football and drank - all day.
And drink we did.
The final count for the day:
2 Baileys and coffee1 gallon of beer (we went through 3 of the image to the left. THREE!)
1 shot of JD (I almost hurled, and Jarod make sure everyone knew.)
1 random shot
2 bottles of beer at home
3 bottles of beer at the airport (That's what happens when you get delayed 4 hours)
2 glasses of wine at home again
What did this equal to? My mom yelling at me for being drunk for the first time since I was in my teens. And one hell of a hangover.
My dad asked how I expect to get married when I spend the day drinking with two boys. My response? "Who wouldn't want to marry a chick that can keep up with two grown men?"
Yes. I'm awesome. Or in need of rehab. I'm not entirely sure.
