The waistband dug into his beer gut. The inseam tightly bound his self-aggrandized but inadequate package. From torn capri cuffs, his cankles gave way to dirty feet. Jungle juice stained the pink lace covering his nakedness.
Waking up on the lawn, still drunk, vomit on his bare chest. He looked down. He asked himself, “Whose pants are these?”
She laid on the bathroom floor, world spinning, vomit in her hair. Waking in a stranger's bathroom, she realized she was wearing someone’s boxer briefs. Using the toilet for support, she pulled herself up and wondered, “Where are my pants and panties?”
Waking up on the lawn, still drunk, vomit on his bare chest. He looked down. He asked himself, “Whose pants are these?”
She laid on the bathroom floor, world spinning, vomit in her hair. Waking in a stranger's bathroom, she realized she was wearing someone’s boxer briefs. Using the toilet for support, she pulled herself up and wondered, “Where are my pants and panties?”
