"I do not like Wild Turkey." That was my first thought when I lifted my head off the pillow this morning at 4:30 PM, and had nickels and quarters stuck to my face. The second was that I need to invent a forum smaller than Facebook but larger than a text message to publicly apologize for being such a douchebagging, third wheeling, "how much did your tits cost" asking, drunk-ass son of a bitch. That was before I even picked up my phone and the real horror unfolded. I need to form a support group for the people who get my text messages.

I met a girl last night. I very rarely approach girls at the bar, but this one was the exact mix of hot, approachable, and wild turkey. She was really cute and had drum sticks, and was drumming along to the song. I have no idea what I said when I walked up to her, but I know it was retarted. I'm pretty sure I pointed that out too. Our conversation was awesome, passing witty quips back and forth. In reality I was probably just slurring at her and missing obvious social cues to leave her alone.

I asked for her number and then told her that if she didn't want to hang out, that she could just give me a fake one. So I'm about 95% sure I got a fake one. I don't know if it's such a good strategy to encourage girls to give me the wrong number. After she gave it to me she goes, "Well, talk to you in 2-3 days." I told her I was more of a one and a halfer, and then texted her about half an hour later. Per usual, I have no idea what her name is. I also don't exactly remember what she looks like. I should probably start drinking less.