So, this morning I got up close and personal with a horizontal nystagmus test. For those of you who don't have friends in the police force, in layman's terms that's when the nice constable tells you to follow the pen, then books you for impaired driving. Luckily, instead of being in my car, I was actually still at the party. Sobriety tests? Great party trick.

To make a long story short, I crashed Kev's stag with the intention of bringing him home, but ended up staying and getting hella crunk instead. At some point in the morning, the Po' administered some sobriety tests and I failed pretty miserably, condemning myself to a fitful few hours on the floor of his house.

I gotta tell you, though, if you're going to fail a sobriety test, the only real great time to do it is BEFORE you get in the car, WHILE at the residence of an officer of the law. Because then it's funny as shit.

Still really hungover; it was likely the absinthe which done did me in, because that hit my stomach like a sack of potatoes. Gonna have a nap at some point to try to refresh for Debauchery II tonight at the burlesque.

I wonder if I need to get a doctor's note to explain to any kindly officers that I can't balance on one foot, ever. I can barely balance on my own two feet while stone-cold sober...