Textual Feeling: For Once, I Feel Worse Than I Look

me: i'm pulling the trigger tonight.  2 shots to prep for the pain.
b: i wish you luck my child.
me: i'm terrified.
b: i'm terrified for you.
me: but it can't be too bad.  i have piercings and tattoos.
b: one would think.  it's just violently ripping hair out of the most sensitive part of your body.
me: oh god.  i'm going to puke.
**
me: good lord.  she's running late.
b: oh boy.
me: i'm scared the buzz is starting to wear off.  i should have done three shots.
b: should have brought a flask.
me: i still have to drive myself home.
b: should have planned ahead.
me: no one was available.
b: what the fuck am i?  chopped liver?
me: i didn't think you'd be into it.
b: you have no idea what i would give to see your face walking out of there tonight.
me: i feel like i should get some money off for her being late.  i hauled ass to get here by six.  and no one at this fucking salon thing is friendly.  at all.
b: totally.  you're willing to torture yourself like this and the bitch isn't even there on time to get it over with.
me: and i'm a nervous pee-er.  i've peed three times since i've been here and now i'm self-conscious that my twat reeks of urine.
b:  that's probably better than it normally smells.
i hope you've gleaned what i meant for you to glean from that conversation.
i don't have a bucket list - but if it did it would include things like punch a stranger in the face, get a brazilian wax, saw a snake in half, shave shitler's entire body while he slumbers, etc.
so at least i can check one thing off my list.
in other news.  i feel like shit.  like absolute fucking garbage.
i went to watch shitler bowl last night.  here are a couple snapshots from my night:

aside from the tacos and bowling i only indulged in TWO drinks.  and as a result - my morning has consisted of pepto and constant retching in the toilet.  i'm pathetic.  
plus, i've reach an all-time new low.  due to puke breath - i had to break down and use this:

fuck you shawn white gum

so i'm not sure what's wrong with me.  i've definitely lost my touch - there's doubt about that.  vodka and i used to get on quite well and now the tables have turned.  combine that with the fact that my uterus is trying to claw itself out of my body and as a result i'm in an immense amount of pain.
this is what my life has been reduced to.
pathetic.