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I was 17 and blew my curfew drinking with my girlfriends and some boys that had graduated the year before. I was obliterated and there was a chance my godparents were waiting up for me in the living room, so I thought I'd be 007 about it and climb over the side fence to the back door. I got to the top of the gate and it gave way and fell over, throwing me to the ground. I got up, dusted myself off and made my way to the sliding glass door... That's all I remember. I woke up the next morning in my clothes, on my bed, with the couch blanket over me.
The story the next day was that in the middle of the night my godfather heard what he thought was a rabid raccoon in the back bathroom... so he goes to investigate and finds me passed out on the floor, wrapped around the toilet and snoring like a freight train. He threw a blanket over me and left me to lay there. My godmother stayed home the next day to make fun of me as I begged God for mercy, and threw up every 15 minutes for the next 9 hours.
silly kids...
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just a little bit naughty
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