We've all been there. At a party or bar or baptism, and at some point we realize its time to get the fuck out of dodge. Well, I have compiled a list of signs that you should get your ass home. Here are just a few for your reading pleasure.
You Peed Your Pants
Now, this is a problem that has a strange arc of happenings. Most people pee their pants from age 2-8 and then its smooth sailing until you hit your college years. Alcohol and a lack of bathrooms at a party increase the number of "accidents" sevenfold. The number drops again when we get older and decide to grow up, but rise once we're old as fuck and have to wear Depends. Once you pee your pants, you know its time to bounce, and hopefully before the homeowner knows you just ruined their satin sheets.
Your Friends Are All Gone:
This happens from time to time while getting drunk in a new or unfamiliar location. You're having a grand time, taking shots and making girls uncomfortable only to find out the person you just hugged is not your best friend but a rather angry biker that is not comfortable with contact from strangers.
No More Chicks:
This doesn't mean that there are no longer females at the location you decided to get sloshed at, it just means there isn't enough alcohol at the bar to get you to take home one of the gila monsters that is still lurking at the bar. No disrespect to you ladies, but ya'll scare me.
The Cops Are Looking For You:
At this point you might want to leave through the back door, jump the fence, hop into your car and head south for Mexico. This isn't the time for partying, and before you cross the border I would dispose of the dead hooker in your trunk.
The Chick You Made Out With Threw Up:
On you, in your mouth. If I were you, I'd immediately leave the bar without saying your farewells and stop at your closest convenience store and pick up some mouth wash. But don't worry, no one saw this happen to you. (Just kidding. Everyone saw, expect some vilifying text messages and a video on You Tube tomorrow.)
You Pull The Triple Crown:
Whats the Triple Crown you ask aloud in your apartment alone? Well, its when you try to get into three different bars and get denied one after another after another. There is no medal awarded cause if there was, hobos would be pawning them for PCP.
Your Friends Have All Been Murdered By The Mexican Cartels:
Eh.. I'll have one more drink.
So, now you know when it is time to go home. Next time you're out having a fun time at your nephew's baptism and you happen to have peed your pants, made out with a chick that threw up into your mouth and seen all your friends murdered by Menudo, you know its time to go home.