No More Whiskey

My BFF and I went out for drinks the other night (which we shouldn't be allowed to do alone) and had an...interesting time.

Instead of telling you the whole story, I am just going to copy the text messages from my phone and you can get the general idea. And yes, I've submitted these to Texts From Last Night. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a T-shirt made and give it to BFF for Christmas. Anyways...here is our next morning conversation.

BFF: Hey I lost my phone! Good news is I found a shiny new Blackberry in my clutch. I'm using it until further notice! Now *please tell me who in the Hell signed my boobs last night.

Me: Nice upgrade! Wonder how that happened? As for the boob thing-that was the DJ. You thought you needed his autograph.

BFF: *Wow. No more whiskey.

Me: Yeah, no joke. I had to practically carry you up your porch steps and you kept saying that we were going to wake your parents up.

BFF: I don't live with my parents.

Me: I know. I put you in your bed and you started crying because you couldn't get your pants off.

BFF: Did you take them off for me?

Me: You bet.

BFF: You are the best.

TWO DAYS LATER

BFF: I found my phone. Turns out some girl and I accidentally switched in the bathroom.

Me: Did you ask if you could keep the Blackberry?

BFF: Sure did. She said no.

Me: Bitch.

BFF: My thoughts exactly. I had thirteen new messages from some guy and he kept calling me Fancy Face. WTF?

Me: Oh...that was the guy you were dancing with all night. You told him that Fancy Face was your name.

BFF: What? OMG. Was he cute?

Me: He was bald. And I think he was old enough to be your dad.

BFF: Why did you let me dance with him?

Me: I told you not to and you said, *'I'm a grown ass woman and you are not my mother.'

BFF: Oh. Sorry about that. So why Fancy Face?

Me: No clue, but that's what I'm going to call you from now on.

BFF: Please don't. So, do you want to go out again soon?

Me: I'd love to Fancy Face.


*Possible T-shirt