An open letter to 1615

Allen, I don't know if you remember a couple nights ago when I grabbed your ass. We were both insanely intoxicated, lying in Amelia's bed. I kept asking the slaveboy for more wine. The room was spinning. I tried to debate the economics of utilitarianism, but all I could do was agree with Ben. I don't know if you remember when I grabbed your jean-covered ass, you didn't look at me or say anything at the time. I'm sure somebody else remembers it, and if it makes you feel any better I got vomit on my iPad the next morning. I guess you're supposed to feel flattered because I think you have a nice ass, but that's just a fact. You'd have a nice ass regardless of whether or not I grabbed it that night. So I think you should feel offended that I didn't just deliver the compliment verbally with a drunken smile before ever encroaching on your ass without your permission. And I just thought I'd let you know, in case you can't remember, that I grabbed your ass a couple nights ago. And I'd do it again.