Another unplanned hangover.

This hangover is the headstone of last night’s “Let’s have another round of beer” loop. (And don’t forget the tequila shots.) Imagine three men in their mid-thirties talking about the dos and don’ts of pregnancy over a beer, or two, or three, or that last number that comes before “I lost count how many beers we had.” That’s how ridiculous last night was. If the conversation we had suddenly appeared in a movie, I’d stop watching the movie. You should’ve been there to see us talk like experts, like a bunch of wasted obstetricians. What were we trying to prove? And, most importantly, now that I’m thinking about it, who won? 

Overall, I blame the tequila shots (that I really wanted to drink). But it was a good night nonetheless. It really was. On last night’s headstone, we can boastfully carve the epitaph: “We did what we wanted to do,” i.e., we had another round of beer ad infinitum.