Contrary to popular belief, the dome is not always home. At least for bin.
The night was Christmadome in July, and started out very stereotypically for hag, bin and I (Jizz), pouring back tequila shots as if they were water.
12 o’clock came around which means it’s time to head over to the dome. We all got into the cab, bin being clearly too drunk but also very persistent to make it downtown. Upon our arrival at the dome, Hag and I sat bin down at a table near the bar while we went to order ourselves drinks. We turn around to see not bin, but an empty table covered in puke.
Bin went MIA for the night. Later we found out she got thrown out of the dome, puked on herself and got a ride home with the cops.
Moral of the story: the dome is certainly not bins home
A few months ago something none of us saw coming happened. Hag instigated a bar fight
it started like this..
Bin and Hag were at the dome, they were breakin it down on the stage with the poles when this black guy came over dancing like a wacky waving inflatable arm flaking tube man, he accidentally elbowed this b-I-t-c-h in the head.
Now this bitch turns around and goes
“did you just ducking elbow me I the head bitch”
and the black guy comes back and goes “oh sorry man that was me my bad”
still for the rest of the night this bar skank is staring like she has something to say, finally she turns around and goes
“what are you looking at bitch”
and Hag turns around and goes
“definitely nothing special sweetheart”
This monster on the stage turns around and goes
“what the fuck did you just say”
and grabs Hags hair and punches her in the face, Bin jumps in with the fuck no and puts her foot on the girls stomach to keep her away.
Security grabs This monster bitch and drags them out, they didn’t even go after bin and hag.
So moral of the story is when you go to the dome and think you’re looking all bomb and shit, don’t ask what someone’s looking at because you might be in for a rude awakening when they reply “nothing special”
I get it
sometimes, you just can’t do it
you’re really trying but you can’t
on the eve of new years 2k16 my friend cado just couldn’t
The clock had not reached 12 yet before she fell out of her chair. She kept on repeating , “It hurts” and overtime I would respond, “what hurts cado.”
Poor girl, couldn’t even sit in her chair for a minute. Just some fuel for thought, but maybe we all need to work on not getting so blackout? Maybe as a new years resolution?
Maybe one day .. we’ll all be mature enough to have “a drink” instead of getting so blackout that we cannot sit in a chair.
When they say a picture is worth a 1000 words, it could not be more true.
As seen as above.
This picture was taken at around 2am after getting home from the dome (where you will make the worst decisions of your life, while having the best time ever). This picture is very representative of a typical night out.
Here are some things to note
- One girl is in her pjs
- The other girl is in scandalous red velvet dress
- There are tears
- McDonalds bag in the background
- The boy with a flask (containing tequila, of course)
- The bright green bracelet on the boys arm (dome bracelet)
And when we woke up in the morning, it was like nothing ever happened 🙂
— fishsauce ( I was recording and taping the whole incident because it was really funny – I should learn how to be a better friend….)
Some of the best nights are the ones you don’t remember.. Fish Sauce know all about that.
The night started out as a fun night at the cottage .. That is until Fish Sause smoked 10 cigars in an hour and pretty much went into a coma on the back deck
(at least the view was nice)
little did she know she would miss one of the most hilarious nights imaginable.
Let me tell you a little something about our friend Cado, she has no shame when she drinks.
Youll never believe me when I say that family cottage turned into a world class strip joint after Cados 8th shot of Kracken.
The booty cheeks
and god damn was it ever funny.
After about a solid three hours of twerking in people’s mouths the house grew quiet… That is before everyone awoke to
THEY STOLE MY DADS TRACTOR
I sit up to see one of the guys sitting on another guys lap drinking a beer waving through the window while driving a drivable lawn mower …
Poor Fish Sauce
All I wanted was a little vibrating bump and grind but
there should be a sign on the pleasures and treasures door that says..
“If you buy a vibrating cock ring from our establishment, prepare for a disappointing sexual experience because our shit doesn’t work”
then when I went to ask for an exchange this cunty sales woman doesn’t even let me finish my god damn sentence before saying
“everything is final sale”
me: yes but it doesn’t work
“doesn’t matter everything is final sale”
me: alright bitch (throws cock ring at her face and bounces the fuck outta that shit)
moral of the story.. Don’t buy shit from pleasures and treasures, and don’t fuck with a sexually frustrated bin.
As the warmth hovers her lips, she quivers. The steamy scent elevates her as her eyes gloss over. Her tongue begins to uncover each sensation as she closes her eyes in satisfaction. She dives in once again, to find herself pleased by the temporary supply of ultimate bliss.
This is how my best friend eats her pizza.
It is almost unfair how easily we can get pizza at any time, any where.. and at any state of mind. Sicilian seems to be the popular choice amongst our friends. Sometimes we go to the location on quinpool but more often we go to pizza corner at 3am. As you stumble towards the counter trying not to awkwardly stare at the workers, you try to arrange your thoughts. Here are how the thoughts usually work..
“Is that pizza?”
“ok, theres pizza”
“is there pepperoni”
“ok no, BUT THERES MEAT LOVERS”
“but do they have donair sauce?”
“FUCK YES theres donair sauce!!”
“okay so wheres my money?”
“holy shit I’m fucked”
“BIN DO YOU HAVE LIKE 2 DOLLARS? I ONLY HAVE 3 DOLLARS”
and then you get your pizza
As you stumble back to your seat, you’re not even looking as to where you’re going. Your eye is on the prize, and the prize, is the pizza. Your friends are talking about the night but you could care less. You’re thinking “how the fuck is this so good” and you’re eating at the speed of light.
And then it hits you
You’re so full, you can’t finish the Sicilian slice (basically a quarter of a pizza) – you feel sick
The night usually ends here