Lester? No, I'm Lesley now.

Two of us decided to go out after work on Friday. Seven hours and a dozen people later, I was finishing my last Corona in some shit-hole Tijuana hip-hop bar, gazing at the tranny’s filing into and out of the women's restroom. Seriously, what the fuck?!?

Even after a night like that, it wasn’t too much of a struggle to get out of bed the next morning because I was looking forward to the day ahead because a combination of six lakes, four people, one boat, 3 bottles of liquor, and a case of beer equals a recipe for fun. We hit the water around 11:30, took our first pull of Jaggermeister at 11:31, and cracked the first beer at 11:32. When we stopped for a bit to eat later that afternoon, I was completely tore up… all of us were. IT just kinda happened. Being at the breaking point, I decided to back off and drank modestly for the next few hours until I finally could drink no more. What a mistake. I stopped drinking which spiraled my system into complete hangover mode. By midnight, I was so hungover and dizzy, I could barely stand up without falling. When I finally crawled into bed around 1:30, it was sweet relief.

Wow, what a boring post. You would think a post starting with me being the only white person and among a sea of small-town trannies would have more zest. Oh well.