It's morning, and we've all survived. No blood, no tears, just a little bit of yelling and some puking. Ok, a lot of both. But still. Things could have been worse. Right? Unfortunately, that's true, and they're about to get much, much worse... Mary was correct; Mike did NOT go to work. Fine. Except that he called his parents to explain himself and said, "Oh, sorry. I missed work because I was wasted at Megan and Brad's house." What? Is he the stupid? Does he have a brain? Does he not realize that we're supposed to be housesitting this house, NOT playing beer pong in it? Does he not stop to consider that his parents might find his actions slightly irresponsible, and be a little upset with the people who had the party and provided the alcohol? And those people are US! What's a girl to do? Well, we thought that his leaving the house was a good start... we were wrong... Megan picks up the exciting narrative in her livejournal.It's Morning, That Beautiful Time of Day When Ugly Truths Come to Light!
Tuesday, July 29th, 2003, 11:41 am I think I have to go to church this Sunday. I kind of prayed this morning that if God got me out of the mess I'd gotten myself into I'd go to church again and actually believe in him. so Mike leaves at 7:30 this morning 8:30 - his mom calls and yells at me because she can't find her son. and wants to talk to my parents and wants to know who let this happen and who bought the alcohol and on and on and on and on and I'm like OH FUCKING SHIT because mike apparently didn't show up for work this morning (which he never does I guess) and he didn't go home and he didn't call So she keeps calling me and yelling at me and telling me how she has the fire dept. out looking for him etc etc and how could i let this happen and how she thought this was a nice group of kids and at this point it's about 10 oclock and I'm thinking that if mike isn't dead already, I'm going to wring his neck for calling his dad and telling him he'd been drinking (AT MY HOUSE) so he missed work and then disappearing off the face of the planet apparently to torture me....(as if the vomitting on the floor didn't torture me enough last night...oh and the arguing...and the drunken phone calls and and and and and!!! he almost puked on my fucking dog!) I've actually stopped using the f word as much as I was a few minutes ago.......I was I feel peppering my sentences with it. spreading it on pretty liberally...kind of like some sort of condiment... anyway. I FINALLY got ahold of him at the pool a few minutes ago...and everything is OK but still... He kind of put me through hell for the last hour or two worrying about him thinking I'm going to be killed by the police or my parents or his parents I kind of hope his parents at least rail into him a little bit that is the LAST time I drink with people younger than myself. the very last. fucking learn to hold your liquor Praise be to God. amen.
In case anyone is wondering what happened to the douche-face for 3 hours, he drove to White Marsh and fell asleep in his car. The fire department was out looking for a fuckass asleep in his car. Oh, and if you're asking yourselves why we didn't call his cell phone, the answer would be.. BECAUSE HE DROPPED IT IN THE TOILET WHILE HE WAS BOMBED OUT OF HIS MIND.
Well, thanks for joining us, campers. Wasn't that a nice story? Everyone go to bed now and say your prayers that you don't grow up to be a fuckass like Mike. The end.