Drunk Text Meme Novels & Stories

I want to get drunk but I am stuck with this stupid pineapple juice! I snorted bitterly. I looked at the bottle of three vodkas. Two are lying down while the other is still standing and only half full. I took my glass before pouring some with it. I took a picture of the bottle while my glass was in my hand. Drunk in Love. I captioned it on my I*******m story. I browsed on my feeds and I stumbled upon my twin sister's i*******m post. It was posted an hour ago. The first photo was her hands...

I let her words twist around me, sinking into every doubt, every hurt. The night blurs as I pour drink after drink, numbing the pain with Cleo’s quiet laughter and the burn of whiskey. I lose myself in the club, the music, and the oblivion of dancing with a stranger, feeling his hands slide over my body, his lips on my neck. The thoughts of Zade fade as I let myself disappear, drowning in the numbness I crave. I stumble back to the table, grabbing my phone. “You’re too drunk to text,” Cleo laughs, catching my arm before I can send something reckless. “Trust me, drunk texting is never a good idea.”

Was about to reply, when another text popped up. Unknown number 💬: Need me to remind your little ex why he never should’ve messed with my ice-tongued princess?

"Great!" "Okay, texture or gradient?" he replies in a queue, making me more confused. What the hell is he up to? "I don't understand what you are saying. Are you drunk? Where are you?" I type hurriedly and I'm not kidding now. I seriously feel like he's drunk in some bar because he never texts me like this unless he's drunk. He would come up with some illogical silly things. "I'm not drunk, sweetheart!" I panic and end up calling him.

By the time the crowds start to thin, I'm so very happy and more than a little drunk, so it's no surprise to me when I find myself lying upside down on my bed, phone in hand as I drunk dial Kenji. I'm not sure what time it is over there, my brain is definitely not in a position to figure that out, but it goes straight to his answerphone. "I miss you so much, come home." I garble, unsure if I even waited for the beep. Nope, there it is. "Kenji, I got ninety-seven percent on my assignment, I'm so happy. I hope you're having a great time too. We had a party here to celebrate, they found songs with ninety-seven and percent in the title. Kira made glow in the dark punch. No wait… not glow in the

My brain was consumed with thoughts of jealousy of whoever Greg was going to end up with tonight. At ten thirty, it dawned on me that I had drunk a bottle of wine and wasted my night thinking about things that I couldn't do and things that were never going to happen. I realized that texting people while drunk is a big mistake, but I did it anyway because I couldn't control my behavior. I texted Greg, "Hey, I hope you're having fun. Just checking to see if you are coming home tonight?" I grew frustrated staring at my phone for the next half hour waiting for a response. Then, at eleven, he texted me back. "Hey, Mom. Not sure yet. Why? Do you miss me? LOL"

It’s only been a minute but I have more messages in the group chat. COCK TALES Harry- A girl after my own heart <3 Megan- You’re an Incubus asking for dirty drink ideas. The pun was bound to come up eventually. Harry- Can’t argue there. Now, I need ideas. Megan- Pornstar Martini? Megan- French Kiss shot? Megan- Panty Dropper? Harry- Keep 'em coming. I’m making a list. Megan- Screaming orgasm, Blowjob shot, Sex in the Driveway…

Kristina asks. “Those are terrible!” I giggle as I pass her the second bottle of wine that’s already halfway gone and say, “We really should have stayed sober if we wanted to come up with a clever slogan tonight.” “Yeah, I better quit drinking or our slogan’s gonna be ‘fall over drunk’.” “Fall on my drunk ass,” I come back with. Kristina snorts, which makes us both laugh even louder and now I'm holding my stomach as my body rolls back and I roll from side to side, holding my belly. “Stop, stop, I'm gonna pee my pants!”

I reached over and grabbed another bottle of liquor from the cabinet. The sharp, smooth flavour burned my throat as I guzzled the entire bottle in a single drought; hiccupping as my chest congested painfully. I wanted to get so drunk that I couldn’t even remember my name. Popping open the cap of another bottle, I downed its contents in minutes. One after the other, I kept guzzling, but it had no effect at all. It was like I was drinking plain water. I had drunk almost eight bottles, but why were the memories still so vivid?

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? THIS PLACE IS OFF-LIMITS! TURN AROUND AND GO AWAY!" "HHEYYY MANN! DDOO YYOOOUU KKKNNNOOWW WWHICHH WAAY TTHE PPAARRTY IIISS? III TTHINKKK WWEE MMIISSSSED TTHE TTUURNN OOFFFFFFF SSOOMMEWHERRREE BBBAACKK TTHHEERRE???" I slur making it seem like I really am drunk. It seems to be working. "THERE IS NO PARTY AROUND HERE! YOU MUST HAVE DEFINITELY TAKEN THE WRONG TURN SOMEWHERE! GO BACK THE WAY YOU CAME, I SAY AGAIN THIS PLACE IS OFF-LIMITS!"