You are the wasted middle-aged blonde dripping all over your f'd-up male companion with a broken arm at Swallow's Inn on the afternoon of Sept. 27. Staggering on the dance floor, your drunken ass throttled a guy out of his wheelchair and left him splayed on the floor. Poor guy was just grooving to the music and drinking water, and you turned him and his day upside-down and never bothered to even help him up. Some of our male friends helped to settle him back into his chair, and the guy left saying he didn't feel well and was going to the ER. Flash-forward a couple of hours, and you are outside, swapping spit in a major drunken make-out sesh with Mr. Tool. You both make me sick.
