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The group and yourself were drinking together and coming up with ridiculous rhymes.
The conversation had turned to limericks, seeing who could come up with either the most ridiculous or humourous verses.
You, with alcohol coursing through your system, stood and recited what you had thought of to the whole group, leading to loud 'oohs' and rowdy laughter.
You looked proud with yourself as Rosita shook her head in disbelief of her lovers words.
"I have a limerock."
"It's called a limerick, sweetie," Carol informed.
"Yeah, that's what I said. Anyways," you slurred.
"I like you a lot, Rosita, You should sit on my face. Come on baby, I know you want to, Let's head back to my place."
