Public Service Announcement

When you get a chance, definitely click on this link: http://www.collegeslackers.com/?pg=vid-flamingshot


When I first watched it I thought it was really horrible, but then I realized that I was only saying that because I could so easily see myself doing something that retarded.

Who could have known you had to blow it out and then do the shot?

Please Tell Me This Customer Was Drunk

Okay so this is totally random, but a while back someone in my company's Customer Service department forwarded me the following customer email, and I'm just sure that alcohol must have had something to do with it -- whether the customer himself, or his mother during the pregnancy. Enjoy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

BUT I KNOW ONLY MY FAVOR [COMPANY] ONLY TOPS STOCKS AND PORTFOLIOS OTHER MORE ETC,BUT I NEVER SEE [COMPANY] I CALLED FEEDBACK HELP ME USENAME AND NEW PASSWORD.THEN I PUT USENAME AND CHANGED DEFERMENT PASSWORD SETUP SUCCEEDED THEN THEY MAD AT ME CHANGED NEW MY PASSWORD BUT I FORGET WHAT NAME MY PASSWORD OK.IF FEEDBACK HELP ME IF I PUT USENAME AND PASSWORD. MAYBE THEY TRY STEAL MY USENAME AND PASSWORD BUT I NOT DUMBS THEM HUH OK.BUT I LIKE [COMPANY] BUT THEY CAN'T USE [COMPANY] I LIKE MY BEST WEBTV.NET PLUS CONTROL IN MY MIND SETUP IT UP.BECAUSE EX MY E-MAIL ADDRESS [EMAIL 1],[EMAIL 2],[EMAIL 3],[EMAIL 4]
then now my use [email 5] i like looking [company] but never
before [company] how work it out for me ? IF I LOOK MORE IMPORANT
[COMPANY] 1 TO 20 PAGES HIDES STOCKS AND PORTFOLIOS ETC, LATER I BACK LOOK [COMPANY] I LEARN FAST SKILLS BEFORE AFTER TOO LATE OK.HUH.I WILL GO OTHER IN OFFICE FOR COMPUTER CHECKOUT [COMPANY] IF I SEE IT OT NOT THEN [COMPANY] IF I SEE IT TEST OK.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Seriously, any insight into what the hell this dude was talking about would be greatly appreciated. I thought I understood the language of drunk, but apparently I'm not fluent.

CStixx & and Upper East Side

While it would usually take wild horses to drag me to the upper east side (or a small bottle of Stolichnaya), I managed to make the trip up on Saturday night for Cristin's birthday bash.

We started at her place, where I decided to rack up a few extra hell points.


While watching Team America...

Emily: That puppet really looks like Peter Jennings!

Zander: Yeah, but like, without the cancer.


While coming up with alternate names for Jordan's Cheesepocalypse...

Jordan: Cheese-oshima!

Jordan: The Bay of Cheese Invasion!

Zander: Cheese/11!

Jordan: Dude, you're totally going to hell.

Zander: Yeah.

Jordan: See you there.


Eventually we made it to Brother Jimmy's and met up with all of Cristin's awesome friends. Unfortunately, Cristin was being practical and paced herself with the drinks. I'm personally a strong believer that your birthday isn't complete until you've vomited on a baby koala or something equally fantastic, but hey, to each their own.

Thankfully for everyone, I managed to make up for it by being my usual obnoxious self, regaling fellow party-goers with my arsenal of racist and dead baby jokes (whether they wanted to hear them or not) and generally stumbling around the bar like a complete ass. And I only had to be talked to by security ONCE! Now that's a successful night.

Happy Hour, Round 4 (Emla's Bday)

My mother showed up for Emily's birthday happy hour on Friday, and when I gave Emily her birthday gift from a few of us, it was my mother who managed to provide the potential offensive quote of the evening...

Emily: Look! Hoop earrings with my name in them! I've wanted these forever!!

Mother: Oh, fantastic. Now you can go get a job as a cashier at D'Agostino's.


And you people wonder how I got this way?


UPDATE:

Can't believe I managed to forget this, but Cristin was definitely a contender (and very possibly winner) of Offensive Quote of the Night.

Zander: Fred (my stepdad) has the same birthday as Hitler!

Cristin: Oh, April 20th?

Zander: How do you know that?

Cristin: Oh, well, I had this boyfriend in high school who got suspended because... (long, convoluted story)

Everyone: Ah.

Cristin: And I hate Jews.


Mad props to Cristin for that one since she said it in front of my parents mere minutes after meeting them. Talk about first impressions.

Happy Hour, Round 3

Coworker: Did you see the pics from my birthday?

Zander: Oh yeah, I meant to ask, who the hell is that fugly girl in some of those pictures? She had like this Elephant Woman thing going on, dayyum!

Coworker: That would be my friend.

Zander: Ah. Right. Makes sense.


Honestly though, that's the kind of idiot thing I would say to someone drunk or sober, so I'm not even sure it counts.

Imagining My Intervention...

Was watching last night's episode of the O.C. and they had an intervention for one of the characters because she couldn't stop boozing.

So, my over-active imagination got me thinking about what my friends would say to me at my own intervention:

"Zander, you've been drinking a lot. Too much, really. It's ruining your life. I mean sure, you're more fun when you've had a few vodka tonics. And it's true that you're more likely to buy us drinks when you're wasted. And...well...actually...can I get you a scotch?"


Seriously guys, don't even bother.

Happy Hour, Round 2

I honestly can't remember much from yesterday's happy hour, other than the bartender entering Susan's name on her tab in the computer as "Ten Inch Dildo" for some reason (and her addressing him as "Four Inch" for the rest of the evening, god knows what was in those drinks after all that). But hey, how much can I really be expected to recall when I guzzled down 8 martinis (it was 2-for-1!!) in a couple of hours.

Either way, Domini and I had met up early (we're talking like, 4.30, because apparently neither of us have real jobs) to get started, so I was still home and in bed at a reasonable time.

I mention this because there was a woman on the R train this morning who is SO DAMN LUCKY that I was not tired, hungover and miserable when I encountered her at 8.3oam. It all started innocently enough -- I took a seat next to a stranger on the subway. I realize her headphones are way too loud, because I can hear "We Belong Together" by Mariah Carey, word for word, note for note. Which wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't listened to it on repeat for the entire ride. Honestly, woman, who needs to listen to that song EIGHT consecutive times. I used to kind of like that song, and now I'd rather eat a paper bag filled with broken glass and assorted insects before hearing it just one more time.

And if I'm even slightly hungover and this happens again, you're getting an elbow to the face, bitch.

End of random and irrelevant rant. Sorry.

Happy Hour, Round 1

Got a few happy hours this week, so I figured I can be even less creative than usual with my post titles. God, I'm lazy.

Also figured the very least I can do (since I'm all about "getting by") is give one brief highlight from each evening that represents my drunken buffoonery and let that suffice for a proper entry.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Discussion with my coworker, who was talking about her cousin in Nicaragua...


Coworker: Yeah, my cousin down there has seven kids.

Zander: Damn, she startin' her own sweatshop or something?

Coworker: Oh no you di'int.

Zander: Kidding! *charming smile*


Totally got away with that one...

Keeping It Professional

There were a ton of parties going on Saturday night, so it took me a while to get to the last stop of the night -- a coworker's birthday bash. I managed to arrive just minutes before the birthday boy was escorted out by security for being too drunk. Well done, Rodney.

Anyway, because I was taking so long to get there, one of my fellow cubicle drones in particular decided to take it upon himself to be the threatening and obnoxious drunk, via text messages and voicemails. Fortunately I saved all of the messages, meaning I was able to transcribe them and email them out to everyone in the office before he even showed his pathetically embarrassed face this morning.

His threats have been reproduced below, slurring not included to make it easier to read for those not fluent in drunk-speak:

11.31pm voicemail
zander you freak it's jonathan, what's up man, get your ass over here. this...this...this shizzle is off the hizzle man, you just gotta come over here. i mean, people are swinging from the ceilings, there's like naked chicks running around. i mean, if you miss this you're gonna be the biggest loser on the entire...five borough area. people are gonna walk up to you and say "did you go to that party, rodney's party?" and you're gonna say no, and they're just gonna look at you and shake their head in sadness cause you missed it. jaya's here, i'm here...rodney's here too, but it's the first two that are important. so get your ass down here.

12.26am text message
Loser. when u gettin here?

12.53am text message
Hurry your black ass up*

1.35am voicemail
oh my god. i mean, like, loser with a capital L. there's like a full blown orgy going down here. there's like people snorting cocaine off of hookers breasts, and the bar...like, they killed the bartender, so people are just pouring drinks. anyway you better get your ass down here or i'm gonna make sure you get a beat down at work tomorrow...well, not tomorrow, cause tomorrow is sunday, but you know what i mean. and if you don't show up to work, i'm gonna know that you're a pussy. so get down here...i'm so drunk i don't even know where i am anymore, but hurry the fuck up.



*Even funnier when you consider that the person saying this is a 34-year old caucasian.

Souvenirs

Jessica: dude what the fuck i literally have 35 fucking matchbooks from that last bar we were at

Zander: wow, really? i only have like 17

Zander: but i also have an access card to "Morgan's", whatever the hell that is

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Maybe not quite as mysterious as the time in college when I woke up with an 8-ball in my pocket, but still...where do I pick these things up?

Just What I Needed: More People To Hate Me

Email exchange from yesterday...

Zander: Let's drink.

Jessica: After work?

Zander: I can wait if I have to.

Jessica: What do you want to do?

Zander: Remember when we used to go out after work and get ridiculously wasted and yell at strangers and harass bartenders until they wouldn't serve us anymore? Let's do THAT.

Jessica: Cool.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hours later...

Jessica on phone: Where are you?

Zander: At a bar. I needed a drink and I got tired of waiting.

Jessica: I'm only 8 minutes late you alcoholic asshole.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was obviously in a certain mood yesterday, so I met up with Jessica and Joe, the perfect partners for a nice little beligerent night out in the city. Here are some stats to summarize the rest of the evening:

Bartenders who appreciated our fashion critique: 0

People who appreciated our tips on oral sex: 1.5 (she was fat)

Bartenders that had to ask us to "calm down": 2

Truly amazing performances of Journey's "Separate Ways": 1 (thank you, Jessica, loved the air kicks)

Performances ruined by Joe singing along: 7

People in lower Manhattan yesterday evening: 346,708

People who hate us after last night: 123,354 (we estimate at least half of those people already wanted us dead before last night, and we don't blame them)

Like I Even Remember...

In honor of Phil's birthday, Friday night was a big drunken mess, with a decent portion of the night spent at a trashy gay bar.

I'm not even sure I'll be attempting to recap the night, since memories are cloudy, but you know any night where you end up dancing with a lovely "lady" like this was probably a fun one, eh? Right?

Oh, whatever.

An Apology and a Warning

Just took a look at my blog stats, and considering the recent activity generated by people googling "Am I an alcoholic?", I think I owe an apology to all the people looking for help with their problems who are ending up on a blog that essentially glamourizes the lifestyles of the young, hot and inebriated. And whatever you do, don't read this post.


I'd also like the person who ended up here looking for "drunk family sex" to please never, EVER come back, as long as you may live. WTF.

Crouching Tiger, Boozing Dragon

So it's looking more and more like my mom and stepdad will spend a few months next spring teaching at a university in China.

This is very exciting for me, mainly because I've recently been lamenting the fact that cynical and hardened New Yorkers don't seem to be that shocked by our drunken crew's antics as much as we would like them to be. Start yelling at them about obscene sexual acts and how much you hate hippies on the subway, and they simply roll their eyes and start playing around with their iPods. No fun.

So really, I'm seeing the Chinese people as a whole new target demographic. I mean, if a bunch of five foot tall Asians aren't terrified of a ridiculously tall colored man yelling racial slurs and running drunkenly (naked, perhaps?) through the streets of Shanghai, then I'll know for a fact that life is no longer worth living.

China 2006 baby!!!


*Apologies for the horrendous graphic that came along with this post. I blame it on the fact that I'm not a graphic designer and on Godzilla being the only image I could find with scared-looking Asian people in it.

Who You Callin' Stupid?

Someone pointed out to me that I'm listed in the "Stupid Drunks Directory" on some completely random website, and I'm still trying to figure out which of the following bothers me the most:

1) Apparently people who read this blog think I'm stupid

2) I'm listed on a website where the primary goal seems to be finding pictures of drunk girls being taken advantage of, or

3) I only got one star.

Why We Drink, Pt. II

Domini was part of another dance show on Saturday night, this one much better than the last one. Not because it was any less painful to sit through the "modern dance" performances between Domini's hip-hop numbers, but because this time I was smart enough to bring a drink along with me.

There were some particularly awful acts this time, I've listed a few here along with the amount of alcohol they pushed me to drink.

• A girl in Indian garb doing an Indian dance to Dave Matthews. Oh, how clever. (6 sips of my drink)
• Four or five girls dancing to what sounded like drops of water (8 sips of my drink)
• A bunch of people dressed like aliens, running around with BALLOONS tied to their necks (11 sips of my drink)
• A group of fools having what looked like epileptic fits on stage, including a chubby dude in a red speedo (Half the fucking bottle)

Honestly, who ever thinks this crap is a good idea? And how can we have them shot?

Speaking of shots, we did some of those later in the night, in addition to getting far too drunk and acting like big, big idiots. Domini, these shows might just be the death of me.