“I’m so excited to not do anything this weekend,” I told my coworkers on Friday morning. “After last weekend, I can’t imagine going out again.”
Fast forward twelve hours and I’m doing an Irish Car Bomb with Barrett before going live on Instagram with some of the deadest eyes Instagram has ever seen. Something about the air on a Friday night in the middle of spring will make your brain and body do things you didn’t know you were capable of, and this was especially evidenced by our readers who (for better or worse) got after it this weekend as well. Let’s get to the best of the best.
I moved back in with my parents. My over 55-year-old, Christian, conservative, southern baptist parents. Judge me. #rentfree #nosexzone
Living at your parents’ house is an all-inclusive resort, my man. Enjoy it while you can, save up, and move forward. Everything’s going to be just fine.
I made fun of my friend for his impending divorce, and reminded him that I told you so.
All’s fair in love and group text banter.
Went to Vegas. Lost a lot of money and got a fucking shamrock tattooed on my arm. Happy st paddys day.
Oh no. Oh, and she included a photo for proof.
I traveled to visit a friend in St. Louis. I forgot my laptop and duffel bag in the parking garage and I didn’t realize it until I made it home 6 hours away. Currently hoping some kind soul will turn it into the front desk. Not even close to the first time something like this happened.
This is a fun story. I got my drinking package revoked on the cruise I went on because I blacked out and passed out in the hallway 2 doors down from my cabin. Security found me and then confiscated my champagne bottle that was in the room. Woke up the next morning and remembered nothing
If you don’t remember it, are you sure it really happened? *insert dude with fingers to his head meme*
My buddy had his bachelor party this weekend. Mistakes were made. Let’s set general over consumption of alcohol and shots that we’re too old for as a baseline. Now add a $2000 bill for dinner. I should also mention that some of the shots were of 190 proof everclear that some asshole (me) decided to bring. The kicker is the Requiem for a Dream-esque private stripper show at the AirBnB. The bachelor is on his way home with belt-shaped bruises on his ass. Hope to god our hastily concocted story of him slipping and falling passes muster.
I’m legitimately just imagining a bunch of strippers littered throughout a den of drugs while the soundtrack from Trainspotting plays and every single one of your bodies stares through the strippers with a 1,000-yard stare.
I ate dinner at Cici’s Pizza alone. 28/m/Houston
This isn’t a “bad” thing at all. Eating alone at restaurants is a power move, even if that restaurant is Cici’s.
I got punched on Friday, celebrating my birthday when I didn’t even want to be out at the bars. Dude was trying to hit someone else. I guess the real crime is the fact that I didn’t want to go out on my 25th birthday weekend.
I barely even wanted to go out on my 21st birthday due to my New Year’s Eve hangover, so I feel you. How this guy decked you while trying to hit someone else is beyond me though.
Drove to a party at a friend’s lakehouse an hour away. Didn’t drink because I was driving but smoked a lot of weed (I don’t usually smoke). On the way home all my friends I DDd are having a grand old time singing along to the music as I have the top down in my jeep. I drive the whole highway part of the drive fine and once I’m back in town I pull up to a red light. I stop for a full minute or so. Seeing the left turn signal change, I pull out into the middle of the intersection while the light is still red. We somehow escape unscathed and ride the rest of the way in stunned silence. Lesson learned: don’t smoke and drive.
So, wait, you needed that experience to teach you that it may not be a good idea to smoke weed and drive? Okay, just making sure.
Many dumb drunk things this weekend due to being in Vegas for march madness and Saint Patrick’s day but if I had to choose one it would be not eating breakfast and therefore blacking out for 5+ hours at the day club the first day. Blacked in without my nice sunglasses and also a large blister from some sort of burn (I think my friend burned me with his lighter?). Also idiotic of me to fly back home at 10pm and scaries are v high right now. I refuse to check my bank account for a few days.
I plead to you; do not check your bank account until Wednesday, at the earliest. Get everything in order, and come Thursday night when you’re facing going out on the weekend, make the decision to check your account. Everything will be fine (it probably won’t).
And now, some of the best from last night’s Panic Rooms.
Nothing cures the Sunday Sadness like a little March Madness. See what I did there?
Been wanting to see it for a few weeks now but have not been emotionally stable enough to dive in. Way too deep into Great British Bake Off on Netflix to even care, though. Show is electric.
Clear eyes, full Yetis of ice water, can’t lose.
Strong work all around this weekend, everyone. Never stop achieving your dreams, getting hammered drunk, and filling your Sundays with regret. .