Hangover+CompLit= Literary Gold.

I don't know what was going on in my head today, but at 11:00 a.m., about 20 minutes after I woke up, I went to go talk about a shitty draft I wrote with my literature teacher. 

As it turns out, I may be able to think deeply after all. Because i came up with a completely new paper with things so deep and mystical, I'm not even sure i completely understand them. In fact, I'm almost sure I have no idea what I was saying. Word on the street was it was going to be an excellent paper. Unfortunately, I don't actually remember at all what i even came up with. Fortunately, it's all written down on a piece of paper. I've never been so proud of myself in my life. Other than like, 3 other times, none of which I will be talking about right now.

Moral of the story: everyone has an inner Jim Morrison, you just have to unleash him.

Ouch. I survived.

So. My last post was me pre-posting for my birthday. Well this post is about my post-birthday. 

I'm old.

And Somehow I am also alive.

12:30 is not very far into your birthday. Thats how long I made it.

I've been told I said some pretty dumb stuff.

Unfortunately I can't remember anything at all.

It's hard to apologize for things you don't fully understand.

Anyways, the only thing a birthday really brings you is a higher alcohol tolerance, and the ability to not have to put "I'm almost" before the age you turn. Oh, and cards from your grandparents.

Honestly, I have nothing else to add on the topic.

Except this.

My parties will be better than yours.

Always.

Fin.