It must've been a good night last night.
I vaguely remember grabbing my last beer out the 18 pack, thinking that I wasn't ready to go to bed yet, realizing I was WAY too drunk to drive, leashing up CharlieGodammit to go to the corner store 3 blocks away, getting halfway there and thinking not only was I too drunk to drive but I was too drunk to walk but I was already halfway there so fuck it, having a hell of a time tying CGD up to the stop sign outside the store, finally saying fuck it and taking him in with me and the Hindu chick yelling at me for being a good dog owner. I don't remember the walk home.
I woke up this morning and thought it was a dream until I found a Bud Tall Boy in the icebox. I started out drinking Busch.
Then I had to check and see if I still had a dog. I do but he smells like somebody pissed on him.