Monday, March 1, 2010

Ode to a Drunken Mess

The day after the night before
You wake up in the clothes you wore
Your mascara is down your face
And your hair is out of place

Snippets of what did occur
Return to you and then they blur
You smell like vodka and like beer
You feel a sense of gripping fear

You may be missing several teeth
You may have boasted that you queef
Who cares if you shat on the floor?
Or if you acted like a whore?

That strange man who is in the shower
Will be gone within an hour
And then my dear go pour a drink
And throw up in the bathroom sink.

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