#20 Do drunk'n 'up' words mean more then normal ones?

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#20 Do drunk'n 'up' words mean more then normal ones?

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Fay

Is it true that when people are drunk, they unlock parts of themselves that they usually never notice or wanted to? I've always wondered. It's just a rumor and thought that I've heard. But still, if it's true then I think I've learned quite a bit about someone Yesterday night; I'll explain this weird and unusual dilemma.

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A normal Tuesday night, everything is quiet, all is great. Actually, I would say that everything is better than great. I'm currently siting in my warm, comfy bed, eating puffiest, and reading a really good book. It's one of those, 'I've gotta find out what happens before the break of dawn.' May I remind you it's also 2:34am, and I've got classes tomorrow.

Eh, but this book is more important.

I keep reading on and Robert has made it his life goal to get my food without me seeing, at the exact same time I'm turning a page. "Oh, Robby old chap, when it comes to my Puffiest, no one can get past me," I state, petting him behind the ear.

"I've noticed something."

Have you brain? What may that be.

"Eli has been gone the whole day, and hasn't come back yet."

True, but why should I care?

"Oh jeez, I don't know, maybe because I'm your brain, and you're asking yourself this question, so that means, that 'you' care."

That's true, but he can do whatever he wants, it's his life, why should I care?

"Ugh, idiot, you're the one asking yourself this. I don't know why you care. I'm your brain, I don't do emotions. I do logic."

Ok, I officially have come to the conclusion, that I'm very, very tired.

Getting up from my bed, I place my book on my little desk, and make my way over to the kitchen to grab a drink. All these puffiests are making me need water, I practically ate the whole bag, and they're quite salty.

Robert joins me in this very late-night stroll to the fridge, his long little puffy tail whips around, as his yellow eyes are bright and open wide, scanning the area profoundly.

Opening the fridge, the lights flicker on inside, as I look around to see a carton of orange juice. Grabbing it, I reach into the cupboard and grab a glass, I pour it. Then I hear the known sound of the apartment door unlocking, and another very loud boom! Follows after.

"What the?"

I put my glass down on the counter, and make my way to the door, to find an Eli on the floor, while holding his foot, like it was to run away from him, as his face holds a grueling expression of pain and confusion.

"Who the hell put that there?" He winces, pointing to the wall that connects to the hallway.

"The people who made this apartment... and you call me clumsy?" I snort at the memory. I am most definitely not clumsy.

He sighs and rubs his puffy eyes, "I don't remember it being there. Are you sure? Cause I remember it being to the left," He states, pointing to the right.

Has he lost his marbles?

"Uh, no it's always been there," I mumble, he only nods slowly looking up at me, before attempting to get up, but like a new born baby foal, he falls back on his butt.

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