These days I'm mostly a social drinker. Saturday nights when I play poker I'll one or two beers to loosen up, three if it's been a really awful week. Some weeks require more than this. A lot more. After swapping calls and texts with a few people during the week we decided that this last week was one of those. A true shit week that seemed to have it in for us all. Clearly it was a sign. We needed to blow off some steam. To grab that pressure release valve and haul that sumbitch around hard and fast.
We quickly devised a clever and intricate plan which I will now share with you.
The Plan
1. Go out.
2. Drink.
3. Drink quite a lot more.
4. Give it a good hard think.
5. Decide on having more drinks.
6. WOOHOO!
It's a work of genius isn't it? You'd think that it's too elaborate for us to pull off and let me tell you we had our doubts. We thought it might be too big, too grand an adventure. I'll admit it, we were scared. But did that stop us? No! We bravely set out to make The Plan a reality.
My friends I am pleased to announce that we were successful beyond our wildest hopes.
I haven't been that hammered for long and long and, Maker bless me, there wasn't the slightest hint of nausea which is weird because we were packing away a wide variety of food. Highlights included the crab dip, jerk chicken, a variety of chicken wings and what's a party without some deep fried cheese? The Old Man was looking after me for sure and many thanks you wily and magnificent bastard. I haven't laugh that much or that hard for a very long time and I really needed it.
Note: when you're completely faced, never play pool against the designated driver. He'll cheat. Somehow when I was trying to break he made me miss the cue four times in a row. Sneaky git.
Anyway, I wouldn't normally bore you lot with a drunk story but I don't have many good nights (or days for that matter) and when I do I like to share. Also, I heartily recommend that everyone get a friend that you can collapse into a drunken heap with, arms and legs twined together like a string of Christmas lights that have been sitting in a box all year, and go to sleep with without any of the bullshit sexual tension that normally keeps people from that kind of thing.
Bonus: zero hangover.
15 comments:
Omg I'm totally going out and getting hammered tonight-uh!
Nice work, mate. I've had a couple of those nights in the last few weeks, didn't manage to write about them as I was in no state to do so when I got home, and the next day I couldn't be fucked getting out of bed. I did think about it a little while after, but then I couldn't settle on a title picture and I had other adventures on the horizon!
I had a rather charming evening with a gentleman by the name of Jose Cuervo recently.
This was primarily so I could get my fucking brain to shut up for a few hours.
Ironically, my brain is a chatty drunk.
I need to get drunk. Bad. And I need a friend to fall in a drunken heap with. Volunteers?
DUDE! My cousin was too hungover to drink last night and I totally hate her now! There's still hope for tonight, otherwise, guess who's going to be dropping a drunken heap on her parents' doorstep (turkey-baste-FREE) this week? You guessed it: Sylvester Stallone.
Was that deleted comment someone recanting their offer to be my drunken heap partner? If so, I'm hurt. Deeply.
No, it was me, I forgot to edit my comment to I had to re-do it. I'll drink with you!
Damo, I'm gonna hire a dude to come down there and make you update more than once a month. You hurt me. Hurt me real deep.
Blue we had to have the DD, the rest of us were too drunk to open the car doors for ourselves. I must admit that I uh, don't like oysters. That's right! I live in Baltimore and don't like oysters!
*cries*
Tim be careful around Jose. He'll leave you pantless in an alley. Just like me!
Fett I don't need booze to collapse in a heap with you.
And finally, Ing, keep telling yourself that you'll avoid it. That'll make it funnier when you don't.
Coyote AND Inga as drunken heap partners?!
My mind...it can't handle the awesome...
Fett, it's on like some mother-fuckin' Donkey Kong.
Coyote, I will sew my own gine shut and rely solely on clitoral orgasms for the rest of YOUR LIFE to avoid the turkey baste.
Ya heard me!
And don't even TRY to pull that "I got some nail scissors right here" crap with me!
Yeah I hear ya!
it's so great to hear someone having a truley awesome drunken evening. It happens to me so rarely. I mean we always go out with two intentions 1.) to have a fucking rocking, kick ass time and 2.) get plastered in the process. But usually it's just the latter that happens and there's some drama that is bred from the lack of kicking ass. You know, like we feel sorry for ourselves for being down and out, unemployed actors or me - i complain about being lonely and make all my couple-friends feel bad for me and hug me a lot. Luckily, I do have someone whom I can collapse in a drunken heap with, and the chance that there could be sexual tension is non existant since he's one of those gays.
What are oyster shooters? I'd like to try one of those, but I'm never in baltmore...they must be offered SOMEWHERE in new york city - if you can find chinese-thai infusion food delievered to your door at 4 am by a most attractive tranny who takes 15$ off your first purchase because she hasn't yet gone under the knife - i think you can find an oyster shooter. right? i mean, if not, then what kind of world are we living in?
Yeah, what she said!
Jig... wad?
I love when people use words I made up! You can also try jerkwad (variation by me) or jigweed, which my beloved friend Chris Graves made up. Go ahead, mix it up, make it your own...
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