post-shitface

minor hangover
morning hair is banging
proud of my talented follicles
woke up with the bieber posters torn to shreds and a few new and unfamiliar objects in my room.
my house looks like it's sticky.
the floors make me feel like I should bleach them.
woke up alone in my room and was sad when I didn't see mak here.
went to the living room and she was curled up on the small couch.
she told me I got bad at some point last night.
she said I tried to run down the street.
I thought it was familiar of me.
there's still a bowl of gin and juice on the counter.
at six am, I scarfed two plates of spaghetti while laughing, watching Boy Meets World.
I am Eric Matthews.
I repeat I am Eric Matthews.
an alcoholic, cynical Eric Matthews. 
now I am thinking about getting another plate.
probably will
cody kept calling me fancy pants last night.
so a slew of defiantly deep-voiced drunkards sang happy birthday to fancy pants.
my living room said unhappy birthday.
yes
unhappy birthday.