don’t go in there!

I’m having some people over this weekend to help me end my 30s on a drunken note. I was just mentally taking a trip through my house thinking of final preparations that need to be made before we have company, and I was reminded of a party from long ago. I lived with Ed and JC then, and we had a big Christmas blowout. Aware of the fact that some people are nosy and will look through yo shit, including your medicine cabinet, we decided to rig the cabinet in our main bathroom.

I don’t remember everything we put in there, but I know for a fact there were suppositories, a length of rope and a pair of handcuffs that didn’t have a key. That last fact ended up being important when one of my inebriated friends (who shall remain nameless) rambled out of the bathroom with his hands cuffed together. “Ha ha, where’s the key?” he asked. Yeah. So, drunk myself, I had to use a knife to free him from his metal wrist prison.

We won’t be rigging the medicine cabinet for this party. If someone wants to see where I keep my toothpaste and eyebrow tweezers, more power to them. Just hope they ignore the rope.


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