Things I Learned This Weekend

1) A small bowl of mac and cheese is not enough to absorb a liter of vodka and a long island iced tea.

2) Despite what you think at the time, it is never a good idea to buy a trucker hat that says "ROCK OUT WITH YER COCK OUT" and wear it around Manhattan.

3) When you're caught making out with someone you're not supposed to be making out with, you need a better cover than "Uh...I thought I was bleeding. He was checking for me." (Seriously that has to the lamest one I've ever heard, my friends are idiots when they're drunk)

4) If you show up to the first bar of the night, someone says "You should get a drink!" and you respond with "Nah it's cool, I have one in my coat", it's probably time to head home and re-evaluate your life.

Note to Self

For future reference, getting smashed and telling racist jokes to 65-year old white women is not (I repeat, NOT) the appropriate way to give thanks for what we have and who we love.

Sample excerpt below (slurring has been removed from transcript for greater ease of reading).

Me: Oh wait you have to hear this. Why do black men cry during sex??

[blank look from other guests]

Me: IT'S THE MACE! HA! GET IT?! THE MACE!

[awkward silence, horrified stares]

Me: HA! HAHAHAAH! THE MACE! HAHAHA

[my mother shakes her head in utter disappointment in the background]

Me: WHERE'S THIS GOD DAMN TURKEY ANYWAY?!

Knowing When To Quit

Some people think my friends and I are out-of-control drunks with no shame. They're probably right. But in the interest of continuing to delude myself, last night would prove otherwise.

With less than 2 beers in each of us Emily and I managed to bring civilized conversation to a halt by interjecting with comments about scat and singing Romanian pop songs -- which Em accompanied with a dance routine that lasted about 8 seconds too long, judging by the group reaction.

Nevertheless, we pulled ourselves together, stood up, and walked out of that bar with a shred of dignity in each of our back pockets, before we had a full-fledged night of disaster on our hands.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Why We Drink

Every now and then you endure an experience that seriously makes you stand up, turn to the person next to you, and say "Holy shit, where's the closest bar?"

We definitely had one of those on Saturday. Went to see Domini dance in a show, and of course she was great -- unfortunately this meant sitting through some god awful performances until she came on.

This included many dippy white chicks dancing melodramatically to new age music, and way too many chubby people on stage. Honestly, how do you become a 'fat dancer'? That seems like it should be an oxymoron. Did you not get the memo? You're supposed to throw up after you eat. What are you doing, just sitting there digesting? Cause let me tell you, that ain't dedication.

Finally Domini came on at the end of the first act and showed them how it was done, complete with Jess screaming "YEAH GURLL! THAS WHAT AHM TALKIN ABOUT!!" and "LOOK AT THAT SLUT WORK IT!!", horrifying all of the parents of the dippy white chicks, sitting nearby. Immediately after which, we hauled ass for the nearest bar we could find.

I'd also like to thank Jess for:

• Busting out with the running man waaayy too early in the evening for us to be able to blame alcohol
• Attempting to start a fight with a nontourage of B&T guidos at the table next to us at Flow
• Demanding we head to another bar and then passing out in the taxi, in which we sent her back to Brooklyn

All in all though, a relatively quiet evening, that ended with me engaging in a deep discussion about real estate with my cab driver on the way home, which is amusing because I seriously know piss all about real estate other than where I don't want to live because then I'd have to look at poor people. Alcohol -- making me an expert on everything since 1998.

When Will We Ever Learn?

It's kind of funny seeing how excited people get about an open bar, considering only disaster and chaos can possibly ensue.

Case in point: Why am I so thrilled about an open bar I'm supposed to be attending tonight considering the last one I went to, I woke up 2 days later, naked, and handcuffed to a boat on a lake in upstate New York?

Whatever, I can always think about it tomorrow, have to get to the bar early!

Am I An Alcoholic?

Just the other day a friend read my blog and 'jokingly' sent me a quiz from AA that apparently determines whether or not you should start your 12 steps.

So in the interest of calming any of you who might be worried about my drinking habits and their consequences, I give you the breakdown:

1 - Have you ever decided to stop drinking for a week or so, but only lasted for a couple of days?

Hmm. No, the longest I've ever claimed I would stop drinking was for about 4 days, so I'm not even going to read past the first half of the question. Answer: No.

2 - Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking-- stop telling you what to do?

Not really, I find it amusing when people give me "helpful advice" about how much I should drink. Why they hatin' on the good times? Answer: No.

3 - Have you ever switched from one kind of drink to another in the hope that this would keep you from getting drunk?

Okay, this one I'll have to cop to. There was a time when i realized that vodka was water as far as my body was concerned, so I switched to drinking a couple of Long Islands when I went out. Yeah, big mistake, obviously. So I switched back to vodka. Granted, I wasn't trying to keep myself from getting drunk so much as wanting to stop falling down in bars and vomiting on acquaintances. But I'll give this one to the drunks, think of it as a charity point. Answer: Yes.

4 - Have you had to have an eye-opener upon awakening during the past year?

During the past year? Answer: No.

5 - Do you envy people who can drink without getting into trouble?

Uh sure, about as much as I envy people who have 'feelings'. Answer: No.

6 - Have you had problems connected with drinking during the past year?

Once I thought I could actually hear my liver calling from inside me, trying to tell me to go fuck myself. But that was in like, 2002, and you *specifically* asked about the last year. Answer: No.

7 - Has your drinking caused trouble at home?

A few months back I spilled a screwdriver on my computer keyboard and the 'F9' key has been sticky ever since. It was tragic. Answer: Yes.

8 - Do you ever try to get "extra" drinks at a party because you do not get enough?

Hello? Haven't you people ever heard of a flask? Answer: No.

9 - Do you tell yourself you can stop drinking any time you want to, even though you keep getting drunk when you don't mean to?

I always intend to get drunk. Answer: No.

10 - Have you missed days of work or school because of drinking?

Now that's just irresponsible. I do what any corporate lackey should -- I show up hungover (or maybe even still drunk? score!) and sit here being just about as productive as I am any other day. Bonus points for booting in front of a VP or higher in the bathroom! Answer: No.

11 - Do you have "blackouts"?

Sure, but isn't it more fun to hear about what you did from friends or a police report than to just wake up and remember everything that happened? Besides, that hasn't happened since Saturday night. Whatever. Answer: Yes.

12 - Have you ever felt that your life would be better if you did not drink?

Oh, the sacrilege! I'll pretend you didn't even ask. Answer: No.


Did you answer YES four or more times?

NOPE. Only 3. I am totally in the clear. Although the next time you're looking for more friends, maybe you should just ask nicely instead of posing ridiculously vague questions that 80% of young adults would answer yes to so they feel guilted into joining your club.

Oooh, that was kind of harsh. Sorry guys, drinking gin before noon on a weekday always gets me a little cranky.

Zander, circa 2040

Who needs a time machine?

Updates from Saturday Night

I'm sure I'll be hearing more about this all day, as everyone sits at work IMing each other, so I might as well just start posting updates:

you missed zander falling down on his ass and lying down for a few in that chick's kitchen, then joe standing over him and proceeding to pour the entire contents of his cup onto zander's pants

Did I really continue partying with soaking wet pants? Don't remember that part at all...

your friends were running around the hallways and screaming and rolling on the ground so I had to give them a talk

Yep, that would be me.

i love that we showed up to the lesbian party in an escalade playing lean back

Hey, I kinda remember that part.

you forgot...stef was waiting for the bathroom so she could wash my blood off of her, and you pushed her out of the way so you could pee

Thanks, Em, I was almost feeling better about myself. Nevermind.

And finally, from one of my roommates:

i just vaguely remember hearing someone stumbling down the hall, but didn't think much of it until Andrew asked me the next morning if i had heard you fall down. and then i remembered hearing someone buzzing the doorbell. i was just confused is all.

At least no one got arrested.

Not sure there's any way to really convey what an outrageous mess Saturday night was. I'll give you a run down of what can collectively be remembered, and you can come to your own conclusions:


6:02pm -- I head over to Emily's place to start drinking with her and all her Georgetown friends. No, that 6pm is not a typo. And it's probably where the trouble begins.

7:48pm -- By this time it's obvious that Emily's friends really are as awesome (and alcoholic) as she's claimed. The jokes about unprotected sex with minors start flowing, much like vodka into my mouth.

8:55pm -- About 9 of us stagger to the subway with plenty of "fruit juice" in hand.

9:12pm -- I hand out pamphlets of religious propaganda, just for kicks.

9:13pm -- Baby Jesus sheds a silent tear.

9:41pm -- For those of you who remember the insane subway ride from Halloween...well, this made that night look like community service. Some were sprawled on the floor, others were chugging cheap cheap bourbon, and conversations with our fellow passengers included the following:

Random Passenger: SHUT! UP!

Jessica: YOU DON'T KNOW ME! I'M CRAZY!!

10:11pm -- While walking to a house party on the upper east side, Emily suddenly falls, eats sixty-third street, and has to be taken to the hospital to get stitches. Not even funny, I know.

10:13pm -- The Weekend Fun Warriors soldier on towards the party, in honor of our fallen comrade.

10:54pm -- Apparently I "fell down in the kitchen, but not too many people saw." Nice.

11:31pm -- I head west to meet up with some other people, but I'm not sure what their apartment number is.

11:50pm -- I am found passed out on a couch in their lobby. We head to a lesbian bar.

2:23am -- After falling down several times in the lesbian bar, and unintentionally elbowing a couple of lesbians in their lesbian faces, I may or may not have been asked to leave.

2:24am to 11:00am -- I don't have a fucking clue.

11:07am -- I wake up with all kinds of cuts and bruises, still COMPLETELY HAMMERED, and head for Emily's place. On the way I pick up some breakfast and a chocolate milkshake, and stumble over a small child.

11:08am -- Satan tidies up my spot in Hell.

11:18am -- I get a text message that says that I'm "fun times USA". I feel marginally better about being wasted at 11 in the morning.

12:13pm -- In his bid to be poster boy for retards, Joe is sitting in the corner of Emily's apartment, eating salt. WTF dude. Seriously.

1:44pm -- My major organs begin to fail as I transition from drunk to hungover, and I head home to pass out.


Sadly, when I think to myself "at least no one got arrested", I actually feel better about the whole thing. I think my new low standard for a successful evening speaks volumes about the state of my "life" right now.

(And if anyone is wondering "Hey but what happened on Friday night?", I assure you, I have no idea either.)

Game Time.

If anyone's been following (and I'm sure they haven't), I haven't had a drink in almost 5 days. My liver is rejoicing, oh so thankful for the opportunity to repair itself between binges.

Well it's time to put that bitch in it's place. I just had a beer with lunch, and that's not even the beginning. Saturday's forecast includes starting at 6pm.

What.

Is This Sobriety?

Just had a really random flashback of me demanding that various people (possibly of various genders) give me a hickey, and several actually trying.

If anyone has any information about whether this was Friday or Saturday night, and who might have been involved, please advise.

(This is exactly why I try not to be sober for too long...do I really want to remember these things?)


UPDATE FROM OLGA:

it was saturday night, and I know for a fact that I started giving you a hickey, so did emily, and then the crazy little australian dude ran over, and you ran away, screaming.

Ah. Good to know. Kind of.

Treating a Broken Toe

I somehow managed to break my toe earlier this week. I was sober -- last time I let that happen again.

Went to the doctor, and apparently the best way to take care of a broken toe is to get absolutely plastered as soon as possible. Come to think of it, she might have said something about keeping my foot up and taking it easy for a few days, but I always get those two confused...

"Do you remember...?"

What's up with people sending me messages on Mondays starting with "oh my god do you remember when you _____ on saturday night?!"

No, I don't remember making out with anyone on the floor behind the couch. Oh, that was you? Yeah sorry no, don't recall.

And no...I don't remember starting a fight with a mailbox...although I have to say, that makes me sound even more awesome than I already knew I was.


Basically, just send me recaps as if I was never there, since there's no discernible reason that I would remember what I did between my 8th vodka tonic and that 4th shot of whisky.

Why House Parties Rule

Where else do you end up with people stripping, making racist jokes, and falling down because they're so wasted? Actually I guess we do that everywhere, but at least you don't have to worry about getting kicked out of a friend's apartment...as much.

It also helped that we were surrounded by a bunch of Australians who were so shit-faced (as Australians usually are) that they didn't know their asses from their elbows. And then there's Ms. Elenor -- considering the girl uses words like 'definetingly' and 'moutain' when she's sober, she's a real treat when she's smashed.

After all that we headed down to the East Village where we saw the random sighting of the month -- did you know that Hasidic Jews can go out and drink and dance? And that some of them know all the words to "99 Problems" by Jay-Z? Go figure.

Bright and Early

Ahh. Don't you guys just LOVE it when you go home early on a Friday night, and you wake up on Saturday morning and do all kinds of things that you could never do if you were really hungover?

Yeah me neither, pass the fuckin Stoli.

Still Drunk Hall of Fame - Andy Dick

Let's face it, I'm not nearly enough of an alcoholic to make a substantial post every single day. To drink that much I would really have to hate myself, and to be honest, I'm a pretty big fan.

So I'd like to take a moment to honor our idols -- those out there who are so committed to getting shit-faced, that they toss aside what little sense of shame they might possess, and make complete spectacles of themselves on a regular basis.

So without further ado, I present Mr. Andy Dick.:

In support of this award, I present the following evidence:

The New York Post reports that a stinking drunk and totally out-of-control Dick groped male and female clubgoers, and then rolled around on the men's room floor screaming for someone to get him some cocaine. Then, he barricaded himself in the club's kitchen and started sobbing about the death of his good friend Rick James. "My best friend is dead!" he blubbered. "He's gone! He's dead! You don't understand! All my best friends die!"

The host of the party, *NSync's Joey Fatone, whom Dick kept calling "Fat One," escorted Andy out of the club and put him in a cab, but not before Dick punched an unidentified man in the face. Wait, there's more. Instead of calling it a night, Dick had the cabdriver drop him off at another club, where a source said Andy stole kisses from unsuspecting passersby and bitch-slapped those who refused his advances. The club owner said the last time he saw Dick, the comedian was rolling around on the sidewalk in front of the club.

I can only dream of being that ridiculous. Until then, consider me in training.

Family "Dinner"

Met up with my family for dinner last night. Sounds wholesome and all, until you realize that "dinner" with my family means the following 7-course meal:

• vodka tonics
• more vodka tonics
• okay maybe just one more vodka tonic each
• bottle of wine
• another bottle of wine
• at this point we usually think we've only had one bottle, so we order another one
• cognacs

What's that you say? We forgot something? Oh right...food. I promise that's part of it, it's just not very important or memorable. And there you have "dinner" with my family.

And if one of my family members ever says "Hey let's get some drinks!", just remember to bring the stomach pump.

A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words...

Wow...an appropriately blurry photo of me holding a drink and looking like an asshole, with my arm around an immigrant French maid, grabbing a tranny hula girl's coconut breast.

If another picture out there more accurately encapsulates my life as a young adult, I sure as hell haven't seen it.

Honorable mention: Domini and myself getting a little too into character. If we could make out the faces in the background better, I assure you it would be a mixture of shock and disgust. Just the way we like it. Which probably explains why we kept going.

There don't seem to be any pictures of Emily anywhere, but that's probably because she was passed out in the stairwell or something.

Dr. Zander Reporting For Duty

Interesting article on Yahoo! News this morning:

If she takes a hard fall, Ashlyn won't cry. Ashlyn is among a tiny number of people in the world known to have congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, or CIPA — a rare genetic disorder that makes her unable to feel pain.

Now now, no need to get so complicated. This child is obviously just drunk. Much like the other night when I tripped, fell, and ate 9th Street, but didn't feel a thing, her parents should just consider cutting the scotch out of her diet and I'm sure she'll be back to normal in no time.

Granted, I'm pretty sure that would have ruined my childhood, but you know what they say about different strokes...

I Heart Racism.

Last night was a sad, sad sign of the state of racial tolerance in this country. Our Halloween party crew included:

• a Jamaican with a huge blunt
• a Thai whore
• an Iraqi concubine...oh I mean "a genie"
• a white guy (that would be me)

After 2 hours of drinking at my place, about 9 of us headed to my friends' loft in Chelsea. We actually thought the other passengers on the F train were gonna beat the shit out of us at one point, and apparently I asked a girl with a Kerry/Edwards pin if she was supposed to be a Democratic whore. Oh that reminds me -- to top off our journey, the elevator in my friends' building broke and we had to get out and walk through the whore house on the 4th floor to get upstairs. (Props to whoever managed to yell out "OH MY GOD THIS IS THE WHORE HOUSE!" with the whores staring directly at us.)

My 'white guy' character just consisted of dressing poorly and telling racist jokes. And then we have Emily, who was supposed to be Chloe Sevigny, but unless Ms. Sevigny is a total drunken asstard, I'm not sure she pulled it off. Emily managed to:

• fall down several flights of stairs
• ask me several hours into the night "HEY! We're in Manhattan?!?!" (how do you forget a subway ride where EVERYONE blatantly hates us?)
• prompt a stranger to ask the hosts to remove her from the party after she hugged them while laughing hysterically at her own bad joke, and then dropped her drink on their foot
• berate my brother for being in a serious relationship
• wake up with a black eye and various other assorted injuries

Y'all white people CRAZY!