Three Sheets To The Wind
Roommate 1: Is this what you're going to do all day? Drink?
Roommate 2: I'm going out tonight, so I'm drinking now so I don't spend $100 at the bar.
Roommate 1: You do this almost every night!
Roommate 2: So?
Roommate 1: You always come back home drunk, vomiting everywhere, makeup smeared all over the place, skirt riding up your butt and with your heels off.
Roommate 2: Yeah, whatever, I don't make a fool of myself.
Roommate 1: Yes you do.
Roommate 2: I don't remember, I'm not that bad.
Roommate 1: Well, let's go out tonight then, while you're sober and observe all the drunken people. I want you to see how they are.
Roommate 2: I'm not like that.
Roommate 1: Of course you're not, you never remember. So it makes it okay. This is exactly how you are.
Roommate 2: Well, I enjoy it okay; it's really none of your business what I do.
Roommate 1: You know, it kind of is my business when you come back home like you have been through a blender. When you're depressed all the time and resort to alcohol to save your soul.
Roommate 2: It does save my soul.
Roommate 1: It saves nothing. It's like a drug, it's only temporary. You feel like shit afterwards.
Roommate 2: Good, I have a moment of peace.
Roommate 1: You would have more moments if you worked on your problems.
Roommate 2: I'll have more, if I drink more.
Roommate 1: That's cool, you can keep doing that. You can keep drinking and hooking up with multiple guys and come back home in a mess. You can spend the next day with a raging migraine and complain to your friends how your life is so shit.
Roommate 1: Keep doing what you're doing. I hope you wake up before it's too late.
Roommate 2: Whatever, just having fun.
Roommate 1: That's sad then if that's your definition of fun.