Stupid Friday Night Shit :: essays research papers

All week long, the only thing every(prenominal)one can chew away ab tabu is Friday night. What are you doing this weekend? And the first thing youll hear divulge of any college students m out(a)h is getting shitty-faced. Sounds like we got a plan. So Friday night rolls around, and there is a thick and definitely noticeable electricity in the air because everyone is pumped up to go out and drink the week away. All of them say they drink because they like the taste. Thats bullshit. If they re tout ensembley like the taste, they wouldnt arrest to play ignorant niggling games to coax them into drinking the crap. So theyre playing this game at once and its getting really have sex boring. Now they are all fashioning at their cup like its their enemy 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(p) fast because everyone has passed the point of fun-coo l-drunk to not-coherent-enough-to-sit-up drunk. Eventually, soulfulness has the bright fucking idea to have some sort of contest to see who can drink the most, the fastest. Joe Dumbass wins, and everybody cheers at how cool he is. Boy does he bear real fucking cool two minutes later when hes sprawled out on the floor puking in a punch bowl, talk some gibberish shit because he forgot how to fucking talk. Now Mr. Dumbass gets his secondly wind and discovers that, all of a sudden, hes the most big(a) guy at the party and can stick his meat to anyone at the party he so chooses. Unfortunately, these same beer goggles that made him look so much better, also make the 400-pound heifer in the corner look just as good. Heif knows shes hideous, and the only reason she comes to these parties it to wait for someone to get drunk enough to think shes pretty so she can get some good ol loving drunken style.