Pages

ShareThis

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Star Spangled Hammered

As our Nations Independence Day approaches I am filled with fond(ling) memories. Four score and seven years ago (2010), Our fathers founded upon this Continent a new nation, conceived in my friends sisters bed.

I literally AM Independence Day. I'd straight up GRAPE Uncle Sam. I piss freedom. I throw up liberty. I bleed red, white and blue. The whole shabang. But the Fourth of July 2010 festivities... will live in infamy.

It all began when I had to help my best friend housesit for her sister one night due to overprotective parents syndrome that I was diagnosed with at a young age. When I was a high school graduate, my parents decided to give me an inch of freedom. And I took that inch and ran like the fucking wind, I ran until everything was a big blur (but the blurriness might not have been caused by running... if you smell what Im steppin in).

Not only were we house sitting, alone, but it was also the Fourth of July. We only had a couple weeks left together before going off to college, so we decided it was time to get drunk for the first time ever. After a couple shots, a phone call to my ex-boyfriend, and a harry potter drinking game, we were in it to win it (or should I say he was in it? Ew that was gross of me, and I'm sorry). Honestly, I recommend losing the big "V" to someone that you dont absolutely loathe, for starters. But also, make sure their not your ex-boyfriend of three years that you never did sex with until now. Maybe if I partied in high school we could've put the F in LMFAO alot sooner.

Suddenly, while we were bumping uglies for the first time and rapidly scaling Mount Climax, the phone rang. It was my friends sister: the owner of the bed where I was displaying my patriotism, circa World War 69, and they were going to be back in ten minutes. How romantic.

Meanwhile, a mini heart-failure later (aka a quick session with my good friend ralph*), we BOLTED through the house throwing away cups of pimp juice, burying our ganja farms, quickly scarfing our half-eaten penis cake (just the tip), and made a quick stop to update my Facebook status.

Post-cleaning, I think I blacked out. But I do remember we smiled like perfect de-flowered angels as we bid our "sober" goodbyes to her sister after she arrived. Never leave a penis cake behind, I always say! We drove off (...not safe) with our sins hidden in the trashbag at my feet and the boys in the backseat (That totally rhymed. Rebecca Black should write a song with that gold).

Now, every July 4th I am reminded of all the firsts I had in unison with my best friend: first time housesitting, first time drinking, first taste of the penis(cake). Looking back now I realize that this should have been a warning for multiple things... like to decline future housesitting invitations (see previous story about housesitting)... or to stray from social media outlets before 40-proof starts buttering your muffin.

I know one day I'm going to wake up and be like "Hey DK, remember that night you lost your virginity to your ex bf on the 4th of July, or all those June 24th's that you banged different boys named Billy*, or that time you drunkenly braided your weave to your best friends weave and walked around the party like fucking Siamese twins, or even that night you took a shot of NyQuil, two shots of tequilla, a couple hits from a bong, and a couple bites of a weed brownie just because you were hungry (It's a downward cycle, it really is). Well maybe its finally time to learn from your mistakes. Or at least stop mixing your fucking alcohol."


Live fast and die young, that's so Raven,
DK



* Ralph: to barf. to yack.

No comments:

Post a Comment