Epic

and by epic, I mean "what the fuck were you thinking?"

Last night was girls night out at my house. Which wasn't really a problem, I hid in the bedroom and watched Castle on TNT, followed the various terror/explosion/shooting situations on Twitter, and chuckled at the volume of all those women talking over each other. At 10, the situation changed, as they came to get me to come out and have a drink with the idiots lovely ladies who were remaining. When my honey came to get me, I realized she was drunk. I didn't realize how drunk until she started falling off of the furniture 30 or so minutes later, finally taking herself off to bed. When I got in there, she had thrown up in her sleep. Exciting!!

That led me to having to strip her down and throw her in the shower, then roll her back into bed on my side (out of the puke) and go sleep in the extra bed. Finally got to bed around midnight. Oh and by the way, yet again sex was teased earlier in the day and not delivered on. Now I know that extreme drunkenness is a reasonably good excuse for not delivering, but I am simply going back to my original point of Don't Fucking Tell Me. Seriously, until you are actually ready to deliver, don't tell me.

I'm looking forward to asking her if she wants a beer later when I get home.

Later