That would be the sound of me falling off the face of the earth. I know. I'm such a fucktard.
So while trying to catch up on the 463 posts in my reader, I found Zgirl's post from
So rather than bitch and complain about the multitude of people that make me want to stab them in the eye and kick them in the crotch on a daily basis - I'm going to bitch about myself. Fun, right?!!!! Let me clarify - I'm going to bitch about my drunk self. You see, happy hours have recently been turning into happy entire evenings that see me completely inebriated and saying totally inappropriate things to whomever passes within hearing range. I need to stop. Of course any armchair psychologists would tell you that I'm using alcohol as a means to escape my So let us begin shall we....10 things I hate about Drunk Dual Mom.
Brain/mouth filters. I struggle with this at the best of times. Add alcohol, mix gently, and the resulting chaos will be talked about for WEEKS to come.
1. The fact that when you are drinking - you don't see anything wrong or inappropriate talking about blow jobs with the Executive Director of Programs. To go as far as to offer such a service to this man if he cut your grass - yeah that might NOT have been one of your finer moments. Albeit the grass is really long and such a drag to cut. Yes, he was laughing with you, but upon sober reflection, he had to have been a tad bit shocked.
2. While laughing and joking with a group of contractors about the possibility of running for Mayor is good clean fun - suggesting to that same group of men that sleeping with all the male prisoners at the local jail to ensure votes probably wasn't such a classy move. To then proceed to put parameters around your whorishnish by stating the following: "But they can't have beards and they have to have large dicks". Oh Dual Mom....oh oh oh, there are no words.
3. Tequila is not your friend. Make a t-shirt, put it on a sticky note, tattoo it on your ass, whatever needs to be done to ensure you remember this.
4. The fact that when you get going, you have no idea when to stop. The absolute retardedness of mixing red wine, tequila shooters AND whisky is beyond comprehension. Grabbing the bottle of Crown Royal and filling a tumbler...yeah that's going to hurt the next morning. On the plus side you highly amused a friend when your reply to her saying to you, "Ummmm you don't want to do that" was "Oh wow, you're absolutely right...this drink totally needs ice".
5. Your ability to hear what you want to hear when inebriated. Pretty sure the waitress did NOT actually want you to so emphatically appoint yourself a member of her rugby team. When you turned to the girls and said, "Wait, when she refers to a SENIOR rugby team...she's using the word senior to mean really good at rugby rather than middle age, isn't she?" it caused them to fall off their chairs with laughter.
6. Bringing down a really expensive chair while holding onto it trying to balance yourself. Again, classy. Who knew wood and flesh made so much noise hitting a marble floor? Defending your actions by saying you were practicing for rugby tryouts probably didn't fool anyone.
7. I hate the fact that friends remember EVERY last goddamn word that I utter. Why can't they drink until they forget....like I do?
So just so you know, I am alive and kicking. I figured I had better let you know before someone sent out search and rescue. All is well. I just seem to be in a writing funk...ya know what I mean? Obviously this writing funk hasn't impaired my drinking abilities.
Ok c'mon dish....I want to hear tales of drunken debauchery. Please?
I need some debauchery. Want some company?