I was pretty sure my buddy had a drinking problem, but this text message he sent me before a party at a friend’s cottage pretty much sealed the deal. Honestly, the message is just barely coherent, but boy is it funny…

“GOD DAMN IT – I WILL BE STUNNINGLY UPSET IF YOU ARE NOT PROJECTILE VOMITING OFF THE PORCH TONIGHT OR AT THE VERY LEAST GARGLING ON YOUR OWN BILE AND PUKE WITH BARF BITS DRIBBLING DOWN YOUR SHIRT SLURRING YOUR VOICE SAYING “IMMMM A N A CLOHOLIC FAND GDKLGDFLKJ GOO GOO GAAA GAA.” THAT’S RIGHT… YOU ARE GOING TO BE WRETCHEDLY WASTED BEYOND ALL COMPREHENSION TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO MOVE YOUR ARMS AND LEGS WITHOUT CONVULSING. WHY! WHY ARE THE POLICE AT MY DOOR TOM??? I DON’T NEED THIS! WE’RE ALL GOING TO HELL – OH HOLD ON, MR DANIELS AND HIS WIFE TANQUERAY ARE ON THE PHONE, UH WHAT? SURE COME OVER FOR A DRINK YOU LITTLE SHITS, MY FRIEND TOM IS OVER IN THE BUSHES BUSY REGURGITATING HIS STOMACH ONTO THE SAND. OH MY GOD!”