... and sometimes uses me as a test subject. My head feels kind of dizzy and I'm starting to notice there is a small amount of lag when I am looking at one object and I switch to the next. I find the experience very interesting. I'm obviously not drunk, however, seeing as how I can still type with one hand and I remember to correct any small typoes I may make as I make them. Also by the fact that I'm still wearing pants. Just wanted to say that I thought the feeling was interesting. That is all. Haha. Pants.
Am not. Everyone knows you can't type well when drunk. No, silly, I have a boyfriend, and he doesn't like to share.
Ew, the warm, fuzzy, "Hey, my persception of the world is slightly off and this is fascinating" is slowly being replaced by a creeping headache. I do not like this, Sam-I-Am.
Okay, it's possible, but somewhat more difficult if only because your fingers keep missing the correct keys. It also depends on one's motivation to go back and fix one's mistakes. I've been actually drunk before, and this was nowhere near that. This time, it was just a light buzz. That one party, I literally tripped on air. Trust me. This is not drunk.
If you're talking about the pants thing, I was kidding. I've never actually met anyone drunk enough to take off thir pants. Shirt, maybe, but pants, no. As for the fuzzy feelings, I was simply making an observation. This is most likely the case. The people I was with (Mom, Dad, 23-year-old sister, and her friend) have much higher tolerances than me, so it probably hit me a little harder than it did them. It probably doesn't help that I'm only 105 lb.
My one friend once went outside and took off her pants and just sat down on the porch for no apparent reason. It was rather awkward, and I think it sobered me up some because I was just like "what the ****.."
Misplacing a single letter proves nothing. Although you should have seen all the different spellings I went through before settling on that one...
I type perfectly well, thank you, no matter how drunk or high I am. I've even mastered the alphabet backwards except at the point of complete this-carpet-tastes-so-good inebriation. And my pants have always stayed on, except for one time, and I went shirt-less, too.