- Why are planes so loud?
- And so bright?
- Are there always this many kids on planes?
- This is the first time I’ve been sober in seven days.
- I wonder if the flight attendant will accept my fake ID.
- Actually, I may vomit if I even smell alcohol.
- If we don’t take off soon, I’m going to start crying louder than that kid.
- Oh, finally.
- Oh no.
- I can feel that margarita from last night.
- This is not good.
- Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
- Being on a flight with this hangover is literally the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
- Worse than getting gonnerhea last year.
- Worse than failing an entire semester of classes.
- Am I dying right now?
- What’s that smell?
- It smells like Malibu.
- Oh, it’s me. I’m the degenerate who smells like coconut rum.
- Did I drink this morning? I wish I remembered.
- There’s not a whole lot I do remember, actually.
- Like how I got these cornrows.
- Or this sunburn.
- My whole body hurts.
- Does the flight attendant have aloe?
- Or Advil?
- Or some way for me to regain my sense of dignity?
- I’m just going to listen to some music and try to pass out so I don’t have to endure any more embarassment.
- Is that sand in my ear?
- I really hope that’s sand.
- I wonder if TSA will search my bag.
- Hope they like damp clothing soaked in alcohol.
- Will they arrest me for not washing my clothes?
- Or for the ten shot glasses I brought back?
- I hope those don’t break.
- I wrapped them in my bikinis, they should be good.
- I mean those do have a ton of padding.
- So much for my spring break diet.
- It’s okay, I looked hot anyways.
- Or at least drunk me thought I was hot.
- And all of those guys I hooked up with.
- Margaritas are practically fruit, anyways.
- I just won’t drink for a while.
- Except tonight at the SB post-game.
- And then we have Tequila Tuesday.
- And I should probably celebrate after Wednesday’s midterm.
- Eh, fuck it..
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