monday was my birthday, and true to fashion some friends took me out. we started at a bar by my house and after quite a few pitchers and jager bombs the last thing i remember is getting 2 girls to table dance. good times.

apparently, however, thats not where the night ended. i realize by that sentence i have given you the false impression that my story is about to get way more interesting but that couldnt be further from the truth. i remember nothing but bits and pieces and awoke the next morning witrh a hangover from hell and i had puked in my shoes. yes, you read that right, IN my shoes. i hate jager...