So many of you know, after a night of consistently consuming alcoholic beverages , I am notorious for sneaking away and finding a little corner to get cozy and pass out in. I never say good night. Or let anyone know where I am going (this proved somewhat scary the time I disappeared and no one could find me for an hour. I was in a lawn chair sleeping in the back yard). Sometimes it happens in public if the booth/couch/floor is comfortable enough. Anyway, we have recently coined this act "THE PEACE OUT PASS OUT." And even though it is my signature move, we caught little Philly in the act on Sunday night.
Props to Lindsey H for enlightening us with the term "The Smoke Bomb" via Denver, CO. It took me a while to figure this one out. I'll give you a hint: it has to do with magicians.
1 comment:
I was dreaming about how much I hate both of you.
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