Dear 21-year-old girl who can’t handle her liquor,
I’m writing you because you were drunk and probably don’t remember what happened the other night.
Although this was the first time we have ever gone out drinking together, I have a strong feeling it will be the last. I think I saw you drink a whole bottle of Patron, along with a few Coronas and some vodka red bull. For the record, Russia and Mexico don't get along. If you weren’t 21 and in college, I would have to suggest you might want to try AA.
You can thank me later for putting your nipples back in your top. Also for not letting you go home with neither the fat, balding security guard or the perverted, crossed-eyed security guard. (Who probably became cross-eyed after watching too much porn and accidentally sperminated his eye).
After I saw you making out with the skanky girl, flaunting the I-just-had-sex hair and her Brazilian wax, I took the initiative to become the sober driver. I put your drunk ass in the car, where actually you passed out in the back seat for all of five minutes before you slithered back out into the parking lot.
You spun around in an awkward circle and became the human sprinkler projectile vomiting. I couldn't tell you where your shoes were at this moment, but I wish I'd known when you proceeded to walk through your own vomit. The force of your vomit threw off your equilibrium and your arm swung back into the door frame of some guys BMW. He then accidentally slammed the door on your fingers (in case you were wondering why they hurt).
Your sister and I took you home and you spent the entire night twitching like a fish. I'm sure the reminiscent of this letter will be nothing compared to the hangover you have experienced. I hope drinking until you throw up and pass out is just a phase and not a potential problem. I'll admit drinking is one of my hobbies, but I have never seen anything quite like that.
Ms Fresh Banana Puddin’