So I got a little wasted on Friday night. Thing is, my boyfriend didn't. And you all know how it goes when the inibriation scale is tipped, either you're gonna get down, or you're gonna throw down. Yeah I got kinda crazy on him. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't like an episode of Cops or anything. We are some what civilized. You know like, I'm sure he wouldn't want me blabbing about this, but I'm also sure he knows that I already did. It's cool though, we already made up and laughed about it. The reason I'm blogging about it is for the rediculous one liner I threw at him in the process of telling him to get out (of the guestroom/den/lounge). I seriously told him to, I shit you not, "get your fucking Vampire Weekend shoes off of this carpet and onto the hardwood floor."
For the record, I happen to love his Vampire Weekend shoes.