I am not dead, though the way I currently look and smell would suggest otherwise.

Imagine collecting the contents of 35 full ashtrays and tipping them over my head, and then massaging the ash and butts into my hair. Then, go collect some tar, and pour it into my lungs. After that, find every near-empty beer bottle and pour the backwashed dregs in the bottom over my clothes.

This is me. Hello. How are you?

Things I remember:

• Giving my best friend some sort of bizarre grinding/lapdance thing, while she roared with laughter and screamed, "YOU SHOULD WORK IN SHOWGIRLS!"
• Drinking a vodka and coke, then a vodka and coke, then a vodka and coke, then a what? Vodka, what? Voddddddkaaaaaaaaacoooooooooke whooooooooooooo thishhhh ishhh gooooood shtuuuuuuufffff.

Um. And that's all, really.

But the point is, I'm not dead, and besides the slutty dancing thing I didn't really make too much of a fool of myself.

Um.