Not a true story

The night started with a gin bucket. Well, it started with a “Let’s go to that Turkish Techno party.” Then later, it really started when we found the gin bucket. The night ended unhappily in a bathtub, and in between I remember shoveling cake with my paws, chugging abandoned drinks off windowsills, streaking, fuzzily conversing with a gentleman of the law, and throwing people out of my room so I could watch Planet Earth. Then, of course, the wobbly walk to the bathroom and the tumbly tumble into the bathtub.

I woke up, primarily confused by the Mardi Gras beads. 

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