Stupid Friday Night Shit :: essays research papers

All week long, the only thing everyone tolerate talk about is Friday dark. What atomic number 18 you doing this weekend? And the first thing youll discover out of any college students mouth is getting shitty-faced. Sounds like we got a plan. So Friday night rolls around, and there is a thick and decidedly noticeable electricity in the air because everyone is pumped up to go out and deglutition the week away. All of them say they drink because they like the taste. Thats bullshit. If they really like the taste, they wouldnt have to play brute little supports to coax them into drinking the crap. So theyre playing this game now and its getting really fucking boring. forthwith they are all looking at their cup like its their oppositeness and groaning every time they end up having to take a swig. The gulps that everyone started the night out with are slowly turning into tiny little slurps, and the night is dying fast because everyone has passed the point of fun-cool-drunk to not-coherent-enough-to-sit-up drunk. Eventually, someone has the bright fucking fancy to have some sort of contest to see who can drink the some, the fastest. Joe Dumbass wins, and everybody cheers at how cool he is. Boy does he look real fucking cool two minutes later when hes sprawled out on the floor puking in a secure bowl, babbling some gibberish shit because he forgot how to fucking talk. Now Mr. Dumbass gets his second wind and discovers that, all of a sudden, hes the most handsome guy at the party and can stick his spunk to anyone at the party he so chooses. Unfortunately, these same beer goggles that do him look so much better, also make the 400-pound heifer in the shoetree look just as good. Heif knows shes hideous, and the only reason she comes to these parties it to depend for someone to get drunk enough to think shes elegant so she can get some good ol loving intoxicated style.