|
To
all the drunk women, you know it's time to go home when...
You
have absolutely no idea where your shoes are.
You've just had to get someone to help you pull your pants up in
the ladies room.
You've been flashing your boobs at passers by.
You mistake a police car for a cab and shout obscenities when it
doesn't stop for you.
You drop your 3:00 a.m. burger on the floor, pick it up and carry
on eating.
You start crying.
There are less than three hours before you're due to start work.
You've
found a deeper side to the office nerd.
The man you're flirting with used to be your primary school teacher.
The
urge to take all your clothes off, stand on a table and sing "Hopelessly
Devoted To You" becomes strangely overwhelming.
You've
forgotten where you live.
You've
started to sound like Marge SimpsonÂ’s sisters from the 60 cigarettes
you've smoked.
You
can't taste the gin in your gin and tonic
You
think you're in bed but your pillow feels strangely like pizza.
You
start every conversation with, "Don't take this the wrong way
but..."
You
fail to notice that the toilet lid's down when you sit on it.
You
challenge the bouncer to an arm wrestling competition
You're
sitting on the floor. On your own.
You
decide to audition for 'X-Factor' via the security cameras.
|
