Pissing off of a rock.

Sometimes, starting to drink early in the afternoon is a wonderful thing. I ended up in random places, making random friends, having my hair gently fondled by random old women at a bar, punching Pat in the face repeatedly, and passing out in Diana's car.

I made it home safe and sound, too. That's the best part.

There is definitely an unnameable appeal to urinating off of very large structures, or in this case, very high rocks. It makes me incredibly happy.

Sorry for hitting you in the face, Pat, but you did take my glasses off and poke me in the eyes. You bastard.