Textual Feeling: Menace 2 Sobriety

i was bored this morning - so i perused my textual conversation with b.
here's a rag-tag bunch of shit that doesn't go together other than that it's all ridiculous:
me: mmmm.  redzone
b: fuck you.  thanks for rubbing it in.  i'm about to eat quiche!
**
b: i'm a little disappointed in you right now.
me: i had to give people balls.
b: you should have dyed the frosting blue.
me: fitting.  the next batch.
**
me: i just saw the delorean.
b: wait, THE delorean?
me: it could very well have been.
b: could you see the flux capicitor?  that's the only way to know for sure.
me: i couldn't.  it was going too fast.
b: fast enough to time travel?
me: i'd like to think so.
b: me too.
me: because if you can't believe in the delorean, what can you believe in?
b: nothing.  besides, maybe back to the future was based on a true story and we don't even know it.
me: we should watch it.  for scientific purposes.
b: of course.  sometimes you have pretty good ideas.
**
b: happy new year slut.
me: happy new year asshat.
b: go fuck yourself.
me: done.
b: amen.
**
me: next weekend.  cancel all your plans.  i'm getting "i need to get my stomach pumped because i have alcohol poisoning" drunk.
b: let me check my schedule.
**
with all due respect to my liver - i'm going to punish it this weekend.
i make no apologies.

here's hoping that this weekend will simultaneously turn out to be the best and worst one of my life.  lincoln told me to be reasonable -but i can't make any promises.

my weekend consists of:
dildos
binge eating
vodka
debauchery
work
being hungover
making bad choices

here's a picture of what i think is my game face: