Do-Me Beach

So. I'm drunk. Let's get that straight right off the bat. Haven't had a drink in, oh, eight hours and 22 minutes. Clearly there was something in my drink. That's fine. I have no problem with that. It's the least expensive drunk ever. ButshitIshouldn'tstillbewasted.

Anyways, spent the weekend at Dewey Beach. Fucking awesome. Numerous stories to share but this one was the best.

I was talking to a bunch of people when, somehow, the topic of herpes came up. That happens to you all the time too, right? So I had to share the best contribution that herpes has given the world, which is Michael Vick's nickname when he goes to the herpes clinic, Ron Mexico.

Heather shared her own story. Clearly better. Went a little something like this:

The thing to do when you live anywhere near the coast is to get a massive amount of people together and rent a house at the beach for the summer. Phenominal idea.

So, Heather and her group of housemates were at the bar one night when they ran into a guy who was apparently an asshole and felt the need to drop the n-bomb directed at one of the people in the group.

Not cool. Fine. People get mad. Words are yelled. Threats follow. Blah. Blah. Blah.

A few weeks later Heather sees said douchebag at a bar. He was dancing with a woman and Heather took it upon herself to make things just with the world. So, she strolls up to the woman and says to her, swear to God, that the guy she was dancing with has herpes and she knows because he banged a friend who was a virgin and she got herpes.

None of it true.

So woman tells guy what Heather said and he gets mad. Because, well, if some random girl walked up to a woman I was dancing with and said I had herpes, I guess I would be pretty pissed too. Especially if it were untrue. And especially if I had no idea who she was. And had never, ever, dropped the n-bomb to her friend.

Right. Wrong guy.

Heather ran into the wrong guy a few weeks after that at a bar. She bought him a shot and a beer. And she ended up making out with him.

Least she could do.

More later. I have no idea how anyone writes when they drink. It took me an hour and a half to write this post. I have hit the backspace button more than a retarded chimp working on a masters thesis.