Drunk Dial

I’ve actually been sitting here for the last hour or so trying to write something detailed, meaningful, and mature.

Then my iphone lit up with a message that promised to save me from thinking any harder.

For some reason, I thought it was from my sister. No idea why. She never sends me random pictures of drunk people passed out, but this guy’s backside does have a distinctly Southern Ohio, “I’ve been partying on the river” look to it.

No. Just no.

No. Just no.

I do not know D or A (names edited to protect the “innocent.”). Also given the environmental clues, I suspect that this is a trailer not a camper. There’s a difference. Campers imply mobile, recreational trips and fun on weekends and holidays. A trailer implies that you are fucked for life and will consequently be sleeping on the floor a lot.

Something bad has happened here.

Something bad has happened here.

D’s shirt is no longer whole and close inspection suggests that this was not a conscious fashion choice so much as a result of ripping and tearing. There appear to be a variety stains- possibly grass or oil- in the knees and butt/crotchular areas. I will assume it was tons of sex. Hence the suggestion for a post coital cuddle?

Manners will get you everywhere.

Manners will get you everywhere.

I am impressed with my own politeness.

7 thoughts on “Drunk Dial

  1. Pingback: Yard Sale Day 2: It’s Your Last Chance to Impress Me, Kentucky! | possumscatsthingsgnawingatme

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