Back into the womb

I spent this weekend attempting to reverse the aging process. Being a 25 year old college graduate, the first step was to revisit the college years.
I departed DFW Thursday afternoon and returned to Nacogdoches for beers, Jagers, and flaming shots from hell. Apparently, a nasty little side effect of Age Regression Therapy (ART) is rapid short term memory loss, A.K.A blackouts. There is not a single memory in my brain for the span of time lasting from midnight Thursday (when I lit the Backdraft) to about 4 am Friday morning (when Spencer fed me some authentic pork tacos). They were some damn good tacos, by the way.
So I woke up on a couch Friday morning, still wearing all the previous night's clothing, shoes, watch, etc. Another side effect of ART is excessive dehydration and headache, AKA hangover. The only infallible cure for a hangover that I am aware of is a big glass of water and a bowl of nugs. I felt better immediately. Then I spent several hours in an awesome new honky-tonk bar that didn't even exist when I lived in Nac. There were many pitchers of Shiner consumed. I would later find myself at the newly remodeled fraternity house, complete with 60" widescreen TV and Mexican maid. These young guys have got it so easy. You can see why I would want to return to this time of my life, right?
After about 12 straight hours of drinking and debauchery, it was time to lay myself down for some much needed rest. After finding my way back to the couch, I passed out until about 2 pm the next day. I was due in Beaumont by 5 pm for a wedding. It's a 2 hour drive. It was close, but I made it with time to spare. So I did the obvious thing and went to a bar before the wedding.
If you haven't realized it yet, I'll let you in on a little trade secret. ART involves excessive consumption of alcoholic beverages.
The wedding was a success. No objections or accusations were made. All went well, so I spent another 7 hours drinking and hanging out with friends from high school. The age regression therapy session was complete when I called my mom to come pick me up. She is an excellent designated driver. Just like junior high.