you drink Absinth, Peach Shcnappes, Rum, Southern Comfort, and Guiness beer all in the same night one after the other. Then you violently puke your guts out for the whole night. Then you have to wake up and go to work for the whole day the next day. It ends up being one of the bussiest nights the resteraunt has seen all year. Then one of the barmaids comes cussing out the 14 year old dishwasher cuz he made one comment about her leaving the glasses on the counter instead of putting them in the rack. So you tell her to shut her fucking mouth, be polite to her coworkers, and do her job properly next time. So she cusses you out also. Then you go to withdraw money for the cab home but your debit card isn't working cuz there's a problem a the bank. So you have to take the 50 minute walk home instead that night. No you're walking home at 2am tired, sick, hungover, and in a very fucking bad mood. Then the cherry on the cake, lo and behold you get jumped by 4 random drunk dudes bigger then you who you've never seen before in your life all because they mistook you for being someone else (I think). You get cheapshots to the face, start throwing back, his 3 friends jump in, now you're head is bent over and you're throwing in random directions hoping you're hitting something. You start to realise fuck it i'm not doing good here lets just run away. So you run away, get chased but outrun them cuz you do a lot of jogging. And as you run off they're yelling shit at you like "ya that's right, run away pussy" so you yell back "next time fight one on one and i'll knock you out you hit like girls you fucking bitches." So you see a cop car further up the streat and wave it over, tell them to go look for 4 random drunk dudes. They convince you not to press charges cuz they don't wanna have to do more work, plus they'd make more money giving out tickets so they tell you everything to convince you not to press charges and you listen to what they say cuz you're hungover and lost from the adrenaline in your body and you just wanna go home and sleep. Then it's only the next day when you wake up with a clear head and realise you could have sued them, and made yourself a few thousand dollars. And now you're VERY, VERY PISSED. Ya, that was my day.

Btw, not a single bruise, not a single scratch, and the only pain I have is if I push down on the back of my jaw really hard with my finger. I couldn't tell if they were slapping me or punching me. I think my sister could have done a better job. Fkn pussies.

And the worst part is I don't know them and will prolly never see them again in my life otherwise I could just hop in the car with my crew and handle it.

Wtv, I guess i'll just go by the old saying: Get punched, get up, get over it.

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