"Let's go get drunk b*tches!"

As I sit in my apartment at 8:30 on a Saturday night watching "About a boy" (the tv show not the movie, just to clarify; it's not that good, but hey it's entertaining) I hear some shouting. I pause Netflix to just make sure that it's not my crazed-psycho-girlfriend-abusing-neighbor that lives upstairs, (because really I am afraid I will one day come home and there will be crime scene forensics everywhere, but that's besides the point) to realize it's some girls.

"They must be going out to have some fun," I think to myself and I want to shout, "wait for me!" because lets face it, I've been home nursing my sickness a little too long, like I'm literally going crazy here for some interaction, so I peek out the peep-hole (okay, I realize this is somewhat creepy, don't judge me) to see three girls in sequin dresses that already look completely intoxicated. One girl stops to fix her high heel and the other shouts at her saying "hurry up Candy (that wasn't her name, I'm changing for a more dramatic affect) I'm ready to go get laid!" (No, sadly, that part was not emphasized for drama.)

So I sit back down, continue watching the entertaining show and realize as bored as I am, and as much as I desperately (read: that with emphasis) need girlfriends that live here, that life style is not me. Now I am not judging, I've been there (not the waiting to get laid part, but the going out part) and I realize that by saying this it makes me seem way older than my current youngish age but I guess that's what my life has come to.

"Let's go get drunk b*tches!"

Have fun girls. I am off to see a movie. (yes, alone and no I'm not sad about it.)

P.s. I'm desperately seeking girlfriends located here. Hit me up if you want to apply.