We never learn.
See that? That's more punch. To be more precise - that's more ghetto-ass punch, because apparently we are scraping the bottom of the barrel here when it comes to things like oh, I don't know, class and good taste.
Ingredients include: Target version of Crystal Light, raspberry lemonade flavour (yeah, we didn't even get Crystal Light, we got the generic version), sparkling apple cider, vodka, rum, lemon juice, and lime juice.
Previously drink: another half-handle of vodka, split between two people. I'm calling the friend I hang out with all the time Tweedle (as in Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum), because we might as well live together now, we spend so much time procrastinating together.
Results: Forgetting the number of pictures you took at the club, and saying stupid statements like, "Oh, le Ruskie I was dancing with? Yeah, he smelled like cucumber water and I was intrigued."
I mean, like, What The Hell. Cucumber water? What does cucumber water even smell like? Apparently, if you ask me when I'm drunk, I'll refer to the Russian guy with the hot body. Even in my drunken stupor, I am eminently picky.
After all that, Tweedle and I escaped for the rest of the weekend to detox, especially given that Friday night concluded three solid nights of drinking. No wonder I never get any work done.
These are pictures of the drive, in chronological order left-right, top-bottom. The person who guesses the closest to where we went gets some sort of undetermined prize.