The Drunkest Girls at the Party
As we sat innocently at 6:30 p.m. on Friday eating our pesto pasta special from FoCo (RAGE, we know), we didn't expect anyone to take offense that we were being the drunkest girls in the place (although we were, in fact, sober). "PING...PING," both of our crackberries (yeah, so obnoxious) simultaneously begin to seize on the table.