drunk me is the worst guy

Worst Case Scenarios

You know: There is power in being a pessimist sometimes.

The week since Hillary Clinton lost the election, to a man whose name I still have trouble saying aloud, has been painful in the extreme for a lot of people. “I’m still coping with this. I feel like I always will be,” a young guy told me on Twitter. I keep seeing women, in particular, write about how they’re crying every day, grieving as if they’ve lost a friend. Some admit they’ve been “drunk for a week.”

It’s not that I don’t feel this. I was the one to announce Trump’s win to my friends at our election party. We’d all started out laughing, and then gotten quieter and quieter. In the end, I just looked up from my phone and said well, CNN is projecting Trump for Wisconsin, so it does appear that he has won. My voice was deep and flat, and I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel much at all. We filed out in silence. My mother called me while I was in the cab. This is just how it is for women, huh?  This is how it always is, I said. She told me this was a temporary setback. I didn’t believe her, but I also didn’t argue. I got into bed, still wearing the off-white sweater I’d thrown on at the last minute to commemorate the day — there were so many conflicting plans, with the pantsuits, and the suffragette white; the white was more #problematic, but at least I had something lying around the house — and watched the results on Twitter until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I peeled the “I Voted” sticker off my sweater.

Taking the sticker off. That was when I cried.  

So I let myself cry a bit. I took a day to feel hopeless and petty. Maybe, next time, I just won’t vote unless there’s a woman on the ticket! Maybe, for the rest of my life, I’ll only vote for women! How’s that, huh? But that lasted for about five minutes. You don’t vote for yourself; you vote for your fellow citizens, especially those who are worse off. You can’t throw the entire country under a bus just because you got your feelings hurt. That was why I hated the fucking Berners so much, because they didn’t get that. I couldn’t repeat their mistake.

I’m actually pretty good in a worst-case scenario, believe it or not. 

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My thoughts on SPN episode 12x05:

  • How appropriate. An episode about Nazis this week. 
  • Aww Sam trying to make Dean feel better with pie.
  • Oh HEY AARON! I love that they still have his number lol. 
  • Goddamn Jensen Ackles is an attractive man. 
  • Soooooo this episode is not just about Nazis. It’s about bringing Hitler back!?!?!?! This was not the week for this episode, SPN. Read the room. And by room I mean the state of our nation. 
  • Dean has ZERO compassion for this girl’s situation. He’s like bitch get it together. We have a fight to win. 
  • Dean with the gun under the table A++++
  • LOLOL Sam reassuring Dean that someday the time for the grenade launcher will come *crying tears of laughter* 
  • Is Hitler… drunk???
  • This guy acting as Hitler is maybe the worst acting I’ve ever seen. It’s making me physically uncomfortable. 
  • Omg Hitler running = I cannot. I. Can. NOT. 
  • “Heil this” ARE YOU KIDDING??? Who even wrote this episode????
  • Dean’s so proud. How adorable. 
  • Yaaaaaay Dean is gonna eat pie!!!!!! Progress. 

In conclusion: Guys. In case you missed it, Dean killed Hitler. (also I miss Cas) 

casandsip  asked:

Hi drunk Jenn!! I'm having kind of a shitty night so you should cheer me up by telling me the WORST Supernatural or Hamilton themed joke you can possibly think of. Also, have fun drinking!!

Hahahahahaah why did the Dean cross the road

To kick the ass of the jerk who scratched his baby.


did I ever tell you guys aboutKatie thinking the line was “take Phillip Schuyler the man exploded”?

Stranger In A Bar

A/N: As you know, I accidentally deleted my blog (wweoneshotsbycharlie), so I’m reposting all of my stories for you guys. Also, you can follow me on Wattpad (heyitsmecharlie), you can find my stories there as well. I hope you enjoy!
Pairings: Finn Bálor x Reader (with Edge)
Warnings: ———
Summary: One night, (Y/N) meets Finn in a bar, but they never talk again after that. After one year, the unexpected happens.

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Drunk in Love II - Brett Talbot Imagine

Drunk in Love II (Part 2) – TW Imagine

Prompt: You and Brett continued to hang out during the party. Liam finds you two together and a big fight happens.

A/N: A few people requested me to do a part two for ‘Drunk in Love’! I liked how it ended and I hope you guys do too. And sorry, it’s abit short! x

Warning: Some swearing, fight

Pairing: Brett x Reader

Word Count: 1017

Originally posted by hopeless-hugger

Your POV

You and Brett were still in the room together, 10 PM and the party was still going, there were even more people than before (If that was even possible). You learnt more about Brett, like how he was born a werewolf. You guys instantly clicked. You really liked Brett. But the worst thing was, you didn’t know if it was like a friend-like or a crush-like. Surprisingly you guys were able to do a lot of things in the room, no not the dirty dirty. You guys played 21 questions, truth or dare, fuck marry kill and even gave each other piggy back rides. This was better than the whole party itself. Brett was dared by you to give you a piggyback ride. You stood on the bed and jumped on his back.

“Ouft, a little bit on the heavy side aye? This is like a workout then.” He joked.

You slapped his head and laughed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands were under your knee area. He was running around the room, being careful not to hit on you.

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you know what last night i was on a main street and a a car was following me for about four blocks so i was pretty freaked and then the guy inside yelled something and i panicked so i crossed the road and he pulled a u turn and wrenched the big passenger door open and got out of the fucking car and started chasing me and i ended up running screaming down the street until i banged on some random fuckin door and two drunk electricians let me in and gave me a glass of water and waited with me until i was sure he was gone and u know the worst part is i literally pissed myself. i was so scared i actually pissed myself and all i could think while i was waiting for my friend with fucking drenched underwear is how many more times does this have to happen? do you know how many times i’ve been grabbed, and violated and leered at and penetrated and forced to do things i don’t want to do? how many more men are going to do this? and do they remember each time like i do? and do they know they’ve done wrong?

the adventure of the engineer’s thumb

Okay guys I brought my copy of canon to don’t judge me happy hour this morning and blew through two cocktails and The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb in one hour

I had never heard of this story, it hasn’t been covered in any of the Holmes adaptations that I had seen, so I was like, why not, and now I have big drunk things to say about it because this story is so fucking extra, so gather round and I’m going to tell you all about it

drunken ramblings beneath the jump cut because I’m bored and why not

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So it's 2am and this is a conversation I heard between a drunk guy and what seems to be his sober friend
  • Guy 2: Man, this parteyyy was nuts!
  • Guy 1: Yeah dude, and the cake was delicious. Seb ate like 3 whole pieces and-
  • Guy 2: WHAT!!!
  • Guy 1: What?
  • Guy 1: Shit man, relax
  • Guy 1: You're going to wake up the whole neighborhood, shut up for a bit man
  • Guy 1: It's 2 am, you're drunk as hell and the next day i'm pretty sure you're going to have the worst hungover ever. Let's go home.
  • Guy 2: [I'm pretty sure he started crying] But you know how much I like cake dude
  • Guy 1: Yeah I know, when you wake up i'm going to buy you one man, ok? Now let's take you home.

Making my way at the bar, I see a cute guy with colored hair following me. I pretend I didn’t see him and order myself a drink as I take a seat.

The guy looks a bit shy and should I say, a little drunk as well. Well, not really drunk, but he definitely has some alcohol in his veins. I wonder how much time it’ll take him to come to talk to me.

I get my drink after a few seconds and start drinking my lemonade. The guy finally comes my way and I put my drink on the table. I knew it wouldn’t be that long.

“Hey,” he says, smiling at me. I do not reply but smile instead. “Your body is 65% water and I’m thirsty.”

I laugh at his bad pick up line. That is one of the worst I heard actually.

“That was pretty bad,” I say honnestly.

He looks disappointed, but still keeps a smile on his face, “I have other ones as well,” he suggests and I shake my head no. I don’t really want to hear them.

“Take a seat,” I invite him.

He raises his eyebrows, “What about my bad pick up line?”

I shrug, “I can forget about that.”

He takes a seat beside me and smiles at me. I lean in and whisper in his ear.

“And I’ve got some pretty bad ones too, so that’s alright,” I whisper.

I don’t really know why I’m being so nice. Maybe it’s because he’s really handsome. And maybe it’s because all of my friends left me alone. But anyway, he turns out to be a really nice guy. He gets even smarter as the hours pass by as he sobers up. We keep telling each other bad pick up lines, trying to find the worst ones we know.

“That was the worst one, Michael,” I manage to say as I laugh, tears coming out of my eyes.

He chuckles, “Yeah, but I like that one.”

“You’re stupid,” I laugh.

“Well, Y/N, would you go out with a stupid guy?” He asks and I suddenly stop laughing. A light blush covers my cheek and I consider the offer.

“Yeah, I would. I like stupid guys,” I respond even though Michael is everything but stupid. He just acts like he is.

He smiles at me and asks for my phone number. I gladly give him my number. He kisses my cheek before getting out of the bar, his friends waiting for him.

Well, that was unexpected.

Text || Open
  • Anna: Got too drunk watching the Golden Globes last night (Golden Globes drinking game is a thing I've invented) and convinced myself that going to a bar solo on Sunday night at 1 am didn't scream lonely alcoholic (spoiler alert: it did).
  • Anna: Woke up with a waffle in my mouth and a solo cup on my hotel night stand.. I think it was a frat bar, I do not know what happened but I smell like Jager.
  • Anna: Tell me about your worst drunken experience so I can feel better about myself.
Creepypasta #805: I’m A Search And Rescue Officer For The Us Forest Service, I Have Some Stories To Tell (Part 6)

Length: Super long

A friend told me this once when we were drunk at a party when I was still a rookie: “Yeah, it can get a little crazy out there, I guess. I think the worst are the ones where people die when they just shouldn’t, you know? Or when we find ‘em dead like ten minutes after someone says they saw them last. 'They were fine when I passed them on the switchback, I swear!’ That sort of shit. 

Like, take this guy who I found one spring out on a really popular trail. Someone comes into the VC freaking about about some guy who’s lying in the middle of the path in this giant pool of blood. So we run out there, and we find this guy dead as a doornail. Which he absolutely should be, because the back of his head is like mashed potatoes. The skull is decimated, brains are leaking out like custard filling, and they guy’s old so you figure yeah, he probably fell and hit his head. Old people fall all the time, it’s no big deal. 

Except that this area where he fell doesn’t HAVE any big rocks. There’s not even any stumps or big branches. And on top of that, there’s no blood trail, so he clearly died where he dropped. Now that’s when you’d turn to murder, but there were people just out of line of sight with the guy. If someone came up behind him and murdered him, there’s no way someone wouldn’t have heard. And again, even if someone had, there’d be a blood trail, spatter all over the place. But everyone on the scene said it looked exactly like he’d fallen and smashed his head on a rock. So what the fuck did he hit his head on? 

And then there was this lady I found in a different park about five years ago, back when I was upstate. We found her in the middle of a stand of big junipers, curled around the trunk, like she was huggin’ it. We pick her up to move her, and a fucking waterfall comes out of her mouth, splashes all over my shoes. Her clothes are dry, and her hair is dry, but the amount of water in her lungs and stomach was phenomenal. 

Unreal, man. Coroners report? Says the cause of death was drowning. Her lungs were completely full of water. This, even though we’re in the middle of the high desert, and there isn’t a body of water for miles. No puddles, no nothing. No signs of anyone else being out there. I mean yeah, it’s possible they were murdered. But why go out of the way to do it like that? Why not just stab 'em and be done with it? I dunno, it just sits weird with me.”


I don’t like talking about this case very much. It was an awful one that I’ve done my best to forget about, but of course that’s easier said than done. A guy with Down’s Syndrome in his 20s went missing after his family lost sight of him on a major path. That was odd in and of itself, because this guy never left his mom’s side. She was absolutely convinced he’d been kidnapped, and unfortunately a Ranger who isn’t with the park anymore insinuated that no one was going to kidnap someone… well, with that kind of disability. Not very tactful, to say the least. 

We wasted a lot of time trying to calm her down enough to get information about him, and then we put out an official missing persons call. Because of the urgency of the situation, him being mostly unable to function alone, we had local police come in and help us. We didn’t find him the first night, which was heartbreaking. None of us wanted to think of him being alone out there. We assumed he’d just kept wandering, and was staying ahead of us. 

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R: “You ok?”
N: “He was just drunk, he’s not usually like this, I promise.”
R: “You don’t need to justify his actions to me. No matter what you say, the guy is a fucking jerk.”
N: “He’s my boyfriend.”
R: “…Sorry.”
N: “It’s fine, you didn’t actually get a good first impression.”
R: “The worst.”
N: “What are you doing here anyways?”
R: “There’s a party near by…it was getting boring.”
N: “You’re going to walk all the way from here?”
R: “No. That’s my bike.
N: “Well…thank you. But I could’ve handled the situation myself.”
R: “I never doubted it.”
N: “I guess I’ll see you around…”
R: Wait, you going home or?”
N: “Dorm. Why?
R: “Need a ride?”
N: “…With that? *points at bike*
R: *Laughs* What else?”
N: *Blushes*

Imagine #4: Too good for me (Luke Hemmings)

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 738

Story line: You cheated on Luke but he eventually comes back and your relationship with him is better than ever

I still remember when I told Luke what happened that night. I knew I could act as if it never happened but it didn’t feel right and I felt like shit for what I did. I really loved Luke and I still love him. But making a long distance relationship work was very hard. I felt alone and I was too drunk. I knew those weren’t enough reasons but it just happened. I cheated on him with a guy I didn’t know. I didn’t even like him!

“Why did you do that?” he asked me. I could feel the pain in his voice. It broke me. I deserved the worst.

“I don’t know…” I told him, crying. “I’m so sorry, Luke. I feel so bad and I didn’t want to keep this from you. It didn’t mean anything. I promise you. I love you, Luke. I really—”

“Stop, Y/N. Please, stop” he interrupted me. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to talk to you right now” he confessed. “After all this time, after all the promises I had to make because you were afraid I was going to cheat on you… And now you’re the cheater” I sobbed. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry” he hung up.

I deserved those words. I cried my heart out and I blamed myself for ruin the only good thing I had in my life. And when he called me a few weeks later, I was surprised.

"I’ve been thinking and… You could have lied but you didn’t so… Thank you” he said. I didn’t deserve any of the words he was saying but I kept listening. “I’m coming home in two days”.

“I know” I mumbled.

“I want to see you, Y/N”.

We met and we talked for hours. Finally, he gave me another chance. It was hard at the beginning because Luke was being careful and he didn’t trust me. It was okay because I tried to do my best. I wanted to be the best girlfriend ever. Little by little, things between us were going better. And a year later, here I was, preparing the best dinner ever. It was Luke’s birthday and I wanted everything to be perfect. Everything I did for Luke, I tried to do it perfectly. I didn’t want to give him a reason to leave me. I guess I was afraid. When Luke took me back, I promised myself I’d never give him a reason to break up with me.

But something happened that day. For the first time in my life, the food I was preparing started to burn. I quickly extinguished the fire but all the food was ruined. I was crying out in anger when Luke came home.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he said while he hugged me. I was crying like a baby and Luke was so scared that I felt worst. “Babe, calm down, please. You’re scaring me. What happened?”.

“I wanted to make you the best dinner ever for your birthday and the food started to burn and I didn’t want to ruin this” I sobbed while Luke looked at me confused. “I didn’t want to give you another reason to leave me. I lost you once, I don’t want to lose you again”.

Luke grabbed my face and lifted up my chin. He looked into my eyes and he said: “I forgive you, Y/N. I did it a long time ago. And I’m not going to leave you because you burned the food. For God’s sake, Y/N. I don’t even know how to cook!” he laughed slightly. “We are okay. No, we are better than okay” he assured me. “Actually, I was hoping to give you something”.

“What? But it’s your birthday” I pouted while I wiped my tears.

“I know but it’s kind of a gift to myself” he grinned. Luke grabbed something from the pocket of his jeans and put in front of my face. It was a key. “I want you to live with me” he smiled.

“What?!” I exclaimed, happy. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. I don’t care if you burn the kitchen a hundred times, I want you to live with me”.

“You’re too good for me, Hemmings” I said while I put my arms around his neck.

“Maybe” he said. “I just love you so much, Y/N…” and he pressed his lips against mine.