I was really drunk yesterday. Not your normal run of the mill every day kind of drunk. I was really fucking drunk. I don't recall a lot past 5:00. That's right. I was black out drunk at 5:00 in the evening.

Here is a conversation I expect to have later today with one of the people I was out with last night:

Bill: Hello?
Me: Hey Bill. It's Mike. What's going on?
B: Oh, hey. I'm surprised to hear from you.
Me: Why? Because I never call you?
B: Um, no actually. I thought you'd be dead.
Me: Oh, unfortunately I'm alive right now. I guess that's kind of why I'm calling. What did I do last night? What happened?
B: Well, what's the last thing you remember?
Me: I remember that guy who wanted to fight me.
B: You mean the guy that you wanted to fight.
Me: Yeah. That sounds right.
B: OK. you remember fucking that donkey, right?
Me: I fucked a donkey?
B: Oh yeah. Big time.
Me: When you say donkey, that's some kind of euphemism for "Ugly Girl", right?
B: No. I mean a real live donkey.
Me: I don't remember that. I guess that would explain why my clothes look like they were chewed through.
B: Actually, that was something unrelated to the donkey.
Me: Whoa.
B: And I think goats are the animals more known for chewing on clothes. Look, I guess I've got a lot to tell you. You'd better get a pen.