Hold Your Liquor, Boy

So last night Avery and his friend (who's having some kind of 'girlfriend' trouble) went out. They came in fairly early - around ten - and his friend was fucking wasted. So the idea was to let him crash on the couch for the night because he was pretty much hot-mess-central and he and his girlfriend were already on the outs and it seemed like a better idea - to let him sleep on our couch than to send him home drunk and disorderly.

By about eleven, everyone was tucked in and squared away. Everything was fine, we thought. Then, at around, 3am, we're woken up by Avery's friend in our bedroom freaking the fuck out! He can't find his phone! Oh my god, it's 3am! His girlfriend is going to kill him! Blah blah blah. Blah Blah blah blah. Blah blah blech!



This guy puked all over our bedroom! He puked on the huge fucking area rug that our bed sits on. He puked on the wall on the side of our bed. He puked on Avery's night-table! Oh my god!

I was so freakin' annoyed! I think the only thing I kept repeating was "Are you serious?!" I literally just walked out the room and gave Avery the "This is your mess!" look because I do not play with vomit.

Anyway, we cleaned him up as best we could, and then put him in a cab back to his place - without his phone because we still couldn't find it. Later after I woke up this morning, I found it in between the couch cushions. Apparently, when he didn't come home and wasn't answering his phone, his girlfriend called his brother and his family was making a lot of noise on Facebook because they thought something had happened to him.

:(

Oh my god. Never again! Too old for this!