Early the next morning, however, you will realize the folly of your ways. This is the picture I took of myself in the elevator on my way to work the next morning because I wanted to see if the massive hangover I was suffering was empirically obvious. The answer? A resounding yes. My head feels like ouchy.
So while we ate breakfast, he went outside and caught some sleep at the park. (I tried to get a picture of him asleep with his head between his legs looking like a homeless Stone Cold Steve Austin, but he heard us laughing and looked up just in time).
We eventually got to sleep around 7am. These crazy fucks came into my room at like 9:15 and woke me up because it was "time to get some eggs." Scott was in good shape until he got a whiff of the extra large plate of bacon I ordered and got really nauseous.
