18 Times Drunk People Were The Real Champions of the Weekend
Ah Friday has rolled around yet again. Another week just about in the books. We sit on the cliff of dwindling work constraints, and stare out at the infinite possibilities of the weekend. I can almost taste that shit. The burn of a shot forced upon you by a friend supercharged on liquid courage. The steady mounting bar tab. The stressful ritual of approaching someone who might've made eye contact with you, or not at all, every now and again. Cheers ya filthy animals, happy Friday.