You have that feeling again. It starts deep down and burns insatiably. The feeling that you want to go out on the town, and you don't care where or with whom. Maybe you have had a bad week at work, or some minor inconvenience has driven you to adolescent alcoholism, either way much like Diana Ross, you're going out. But you don't have any solid plans and you're verging on making very destructive decisions.What follows is a night that can only be narrated by televisions most lovable asshole--Jean Ralphio Saperstein.

It's very last minute. You try to rally all your friends to go out with you but when they get back to you they say that they already have plans with another one of their other friends and ask if that friend can come out too. Of course you say yes but you really want to say:

That person is always just so annoying and a party-pooper and you know tonight isn't going to be different but you're determined to have a good time regardless so you give yourself a quick pep-talk.

Then your friends drop the bomb on you saying it's your turn to DD.

Somehow you pawn it off on someone else or agree to split an Uber and y'all roll up to the club already lit and immediately start dancing like so:

But then you run into your "friend" from class who says they're the DD for their friends tonight and they start to sober-explain how their night is going to drunk-you.

So you avoid them for the rest of the night and while you're dancing you see that one token old dude that's always alone in the club and wasted off their ass but you're also drunk and also positive.

Just when you're ready to wind down the night and call the Uber to take you back home you get your second wind.

Finally, when you're all back some safe and the living room is still spinning because you only made it as far as the couch you just think back on that night and say: