Sheesh

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Sheesh
This filter is basic but idgaf
A girl, a wig, and an adventure in procrastination
tortillas: April 2016
So I present to you a classic, the story that will live with me for the rest of time, the story that started it all. I give you, the Tortilla Incident.
This all began at a workshop I went to the week of the party. The person leading it was Jewish and as such she had to give up some stuff for Passover. So she laid out breads and grains and I was immediately drawn to the tortillas. I grabbed them and put them in my backpack, as I originally planned to make cheese quesadillas or something.
Come Friday there was talks of a party after a major social gathering. I really wanted to go to this party and break out of my shell as the quiet new kid in the group. I carried my backpack to the party with me, as I originally planned on taking my leftover alcohol home with me. I get to the party and my mentor KC had purchased me a bottle of prestigious Heavens Hills and a two giant Mike’s Hard Lemonades. Once at the party, I immediately took a shot, to loosen up and seem more open.
The party went on and I got drunker and drunker. This was only my second time getting drunk. I only drank once before two weeks earlier where I realized that drinking can actually be fun. Before college, I was always a good kid who tried his hardest to live up to the DARE motto. After that first party, I realized how the DARE program can go fuck itself. Drinking can be fun in moderation, it loosens you up and allows you to have more fun. However, this is the night where I would learn why you must drink in moderation.
With it being my second time drunk, I was still learning my limits. I didn’t know how many shots were too many, or when to stop really. The next thing I really remember is taking a few more shots, and playing a shit ton of games of flip cup. I sucked at it, but that didn’t stop me from drinking. After my probably 10th-20th game of flip cup, I was getting very drunk, and made a startling realization: I had tortillas in my bag. So I ran to my bag in the front room, unzipped, grabbed more booze, and a ten pack of tortillas. I immediately started eating them and offering them to everyone in sight, as I wanted to seem funny. I past the dance floor offering everyone a tortilla. Most just pointed and laughed along with me, a few worried glances, and one or two tortilla takers.
I went back to the kitchen and sat down next to my friend JY. She was also very drunk, but she knew her limits better than I did. She of course was drunk enough to want a raw tortilla. She ate it and formed a beard with hers. She then slapped me with it. I was loudly and obnoxiously laughing. Someone found me and saw how drunk I was, they switched me over to water. Yet I was still going around screaming “TORTILLA” and offering them to everyone as I shoved them down my throat. I thought I was the life of the party, so I think I continued drinking
The next part is where things get very very hazy. I apparently had ran out of tortillas, and when I was dancing on the dance floor and realized this, I started to bawl. This again is nothing I remember physically doing, but was told to me through re enactments. The next thing I remember is being passed out in the floor on the kitchen, talking to a cat through the door. KC saw me and realized I was a disaster. He immediately carried me out of the house, where I fell down the front steps. Apparently I was still talking about tortillas, and offering them to people, even though I ate all of them and cried when they were gone. He shoved me in a car and drove me to a friends house, where I passed out for the night.
The next day was a first for me, experiencing a grueling hangover. It was a struggle, but it would be the first of many for Ryan. I became the talk of the town after that incident, the tortilla story is still told to this day when people introduce me to others. People in my club knew me as the kid who was throwing tortillas while black out drunk at people. To this day, people still ask me to eat tortillas while drunk (which I do because it’s free fucking food). It took me a year later to find out that the tortillas also were expired, so thats an added bonus to the fucked up tale.
TL;DR: I got borderline blackout drunk, ate a random pack of tortillas while screaming about it, and cried once I ate them all.
All my glasses are fake except the safety ones I call these the slick tenth doctor glasses.
Part 1 please watch while I go try and smoke and enjoy some Riesling in the sun. It's Like this 24/7 but would you complain?
so are we all deleting our accounts because i'm actually so down for that