Hypothetically, what do you do when two of your closest friends get so drunk one night at the club that they fuck each other’s brains out?

If you’re me, you remember every detail and for the rest of their lives remind them it happened since you know their sober selves will be absolutely horrified at their drunk selves’ actions.

It’s also worth remembering so you can tell your mutual friends who weren’t lucky enough to be there in person and then watch their faces morph from shock to horror and back.

Had you some advance warning about the situation you could have remembered your digital camera (priceless in such instances), since a good portion of the evening’s activities began in the middle of the living room where there was decent lighting and everyone was watching. Plus, photographic evidence would come in handy when convincing disbelievers that yes, those two really did get it on. If the two friends in question hadn’t passed out on top of each other, naked, you would’ve also needed photos to convince THEM that it happened.

At some point in the process, the folks in question make it to a bedroom and everybody soon hears the unmistakable rhythm of a headboard against a wall, punctuated by gasps and drunken moans that serve only to tell you all how damn good it must be, which shamefully kind of turns you on despite your best efforts against it because, for God’s sake, they’re STRAIGHT.

Of course, by then you’re way too drunk to do anything about your own situation so you just let yourself pass out on the kitchen floor and hope that next time you’re the one making everybody jealous. With a straight boy.

And that no one has a digital camera then, either.

Is that what you’d do, too? Hypothetically, of course.