It Is Way Too Sunday To Be Drunk

I wrote this blog on Sunday, but I passed out on the couch while writing it. Maturity abounds:

Corrupting friends from college visited Kelsey and I today. The female is pregnant. The male is not pregnant. The male and I got real drunk. We should not have done this. It is Sunday. Sunday is not for drinking. Normally, Sunday is for going to church and maybe going to Arby's afterward. Today, Sunday was for deep cleaning the house after waking up in the basement (oh yeah! Kelsey and I slept in the basement because last night it was supposed to storm (it didn't), and we thought we might end up there anyway.) and then chilling.  Chilling is modern day slang for "not doing anything." Our grandfathers never partook in chilling because their generation worked harder than ours.