Ocho de Mayo!

So instead of cinco de mayo, we had ocho de mayo at the drop zone, since well cinco was on Wednesday, and ocho was Saturday.
"Patron on the rocks, and I'm ready for some shots!"
So we're having this big Mexican fiesta style party after the club meeting and everything. I've got two bottles of tequila, along with three different kinds of margarita mixes. A few other people also got more bottles of other stuff, a few bottles of patron floating around for shots. Mary and I worked on some rigging in the morning, sewing together and finishing 3 walk around harnesses, then heading out to the dz for the party, and for me to re-assemble all the student gear and pack those up.... huge fucking parachutes -grumble-.
"Patron on the rocks, and I'm ready for some shots!"
Anywhoo, we have our club meeting, with a taco bar for everyone, and enjoy the food, get the updates on the club. Do two initiations, which are always good shit. Kimmy and Chad became permanent members. All in all I believe I had about 5 shots of patron, and 4 margaritas before heading out to the bar. I ate two tacos during the club meeting, thereby fulfilling my sustenance needs for the day... kinda. Had a whiskey and coke that was stronger than I make them for myself, which is pretty scary to be honest.
"Patron on the rocks, and I'm ready for some shots!"
Also had 3 bombs at the bar, I managed to get Prigge, and Kimmy to buy said bombs for me, don't ask me how I don't much remember that part. Drank about 1/2 of Lisa's cranberry vodka and danced for a lil while and what not. We went back to the club, and I was pretty much drunk as a skunk, and ready to pass the fuck out. So I did. Within what I believe was about 10 minutes, I was throwing up... all over the couch I was sleeping on. B-Mart had to wake me up and force me to help him clean up my vomit... It was pretty much disgusting. I threw out the shirt I was wearing because it was totally covered, smeared even, and it was a nice shirt. One that Meghan bought me, so I'm fairly confident it looked 1/2 decent on me. The two cushions that took the brute of the attack got thrown over the balcony, and B-Mart took them into the showers and hosed those off, while I attempted to clean up the couch and carpet as best I could. B-Mart showed up with a steaming bucket of bleach water, which worked really well actually. The next morning I couldn't even tell where on the couch I had thrown up, except after I hurled I became pretty conscious and my memory worked, probably because the sudden lack of booze pissed me off... not sure. Now I owe B-Mart huge, because he stayed up for an hour or so to clean up my mess, which is just disgusting.

On Sunday morning, every time I walked past the vending machine, I bought B-Mart a Dr. Pepper, the soda he likes, and just kinda told him he looked thirsty. It's a small start and I think I spent like $1.50 or $2.00 which isn't even close to what his help was worth, but at least it's something. So for now I'm trying to figure out the best way to pay my debt to him.


A few things can be learned from my ordeal:
-It's great to have good fucking friends.
-Tequila rocks, until it's coming out, that's just unpleasant.
-Don't go to the bar after 12:30.
-And of course, Nothing good happens after 2:00AM



Random Joke:
Facebook -- Making it acceptable for strangers to be creepy since 2004.