I want to die

Went out last night. On some greasy vendor's tab. Trashed. Can't write. Idiot. D-Ring didn't make it to the office today. Slob. Party Girl told me to have shots for her because she couldn't go. And have shots we did. The young guy that came to party for the guy paying the bill was a goer. But he didn't know what he stepped in. I want to puke. "Shots!!!" This is still ringing in my head. Kill me now. The vendor gets his hairs cut at the same place as the guy who runs our mailroom. My head feels like if I picked my nose too far, my brains might slide out of my head. Did that make sense? Who cares. We did six shots of Johnny Black and something very fruity. The bill-payer got in an argument with the bartender because she didn't give us a buyback until the end of the night. The bill was $1200 bucks. D-Ring thought it was gonna be around $180. It's a good thing he's so handsome, cuz the learnin' smarts not so good. My face feels like the bed springs at a cheap motel. My insides feel like pond. I made a complete ass of myself on the train home. Apparently I told my girlfriend she is driving a wedge into our relationship. Douche. I also was giving the finger to the window. A bagel stick and Crowd Pleaser (tall can of Bud) is a good dinner. I am not gonna be surprised when I poop myself tonight. Today I had to print my entire case out and put it in a binder for some scrub. I think my toes are still drunk. Feel like dump-rot. The bill payer had to calm his party boy down because he could see that we were not backing down from his repeated challenges. "Shots! Yo, you dudes want another? Come on!" You're goddamn right we do. This guy was paying for us to get drunk. Us filth, some dude who doesn't even work with us anymore, and a chick who is slowly losing her will to live. Hurt. I wish I was back in the womb. If they could simulate the womb feeling for adults that would be pretty sweet. No breathing, or noise....

Can't write anymore. Probably shouldn't have started.