drunk mother fucker is drunk. not me, this guy on the bus. fucking half smile and eyes going in all directions like a sick chameleon. get real. we’ve all been there I guess. I know I have.
I remember when Ben and I went to the pub on a Sunday night and got drunk. we got McDonald’s just before the last bus. I embarrassed myself in front of the cashier girl by stumbling on my order, and then messily ate a big mac at the back of the bus. I slept well that night.
wow. drunk mother fucker is so drunk. he just told a guy that he looked like Jesus. and that we were all blessed by his presence. really really loudly. he’s got that hair that is grey and white but the white is kind of off white like it needs a good wash.
“brweh bruh brwah bruh,” he says.
I get so self conscious when I am drunk about being belligerent. I end up whispering (which ends up being regular talking) to whoever I’m with asking if I’m being belligerent.
