Melikilikimaka Is NOT The Thing To Say

So Belle and I are off to Hawaii this morning. When people want to show off that they've been to Hawaii, they usually ask "which island?". The one with a lot of vowels in it, douchebag, as if you give a shit. Sorry, had to get that out.

ANYWAY...I will attempt to restrain myself when it comes to mocking Hawaiian traditions while I'm there, since I hear they take these things very seriously. I actually read all about Hawaiian history and culture this past weekend, and they have thousands of years of amazing heritage on those islands. I honestly can't wait to get really drunk and lie on the beach all day.

See y'all in a week or so.

True Diplomats

I brought Domini as my date to a dinner at Kofi Annan's residence last night, and I am not so proud to say that I was mostly sober and almost polite for the entire evening.


Things On My List That I Didn't Get Drunk Enough To Accomplish:

• Calling the Secretary-General "Koko" to his face
• Getting his wife to drop it like it's hot
• Loudly showing off my fantastic Indian accent for everyone in attendance (my friends KNOW what I'm talking about)

Things I Managed To Accomplish Despite Being Sober:

• Making a disparaging remark about the poor

I guess I can't blame it all on the booze, eh?

How To Make Friends

Hey, remember that day in kindergarten when you learned how to introduce yourself to strangers?

Me neither, apparently. Sorry, lady.

Saturday Night, In A Nutshell

Don't Mind Us...

Met my mom and stepdad for drinks and dinner last night. Things were going drunk as usual, when apparently we crossed that line between sanity and deciding it was time to attempt to burn down this very nice little french restaurant.

My mother's suggestion was to pour her Grand Marnier on our crepes and light them on fire, making our own Crepes Suzette. So we asked the waitress for matches and went to it.

Let me recap this for anyone who isn't following -- we were pouring alcohol on our food and attempting to light it on fire. Why would we think that was okay??

I love my family.

Why Didn't Anyone Tell Me?!!?!

A coworker was kind enough to send me a link to the Face Transformer, where you can pop in a picture of yourself and then it shows you what you'd look like if you were another race, age, etc.

And THIS god awful picture is apparently what I look like when I'm drunk.

So I'd like to take this opportunity to tell all of my "friends" that you suck for not letting me know what New Yorkers are in danger of encountering three nights a week.

This also explains a lot of reactions I get when I'm out on the weekends...

RW/RR Challenge - Inferno II

Okay, so this will be another random post not related to alcohol, sorry for all you drunkies out there. And this will be worse than most, because only people who watched the Inferno II will have any idea what I'm talking about. Feeling excluded? Suck it. At least I know Cristin will appreciate this.

So yeah, a few comments on the season that just ended...

Could the prize be any shittier?

Last night two of the meatheads on the show were musing about what they would do if they won the final challenge, worth $150,000. One of them actually said "I would just be in awe. I wouldn't even know what to do."

Um...we're not talking about a $200 million powerball prize here, fellas. In fact, we're talking about $150,000, plus the other $70,000 you won. Not too shabby, until you divide it between your seven teammates and take into account that they tax people like you (meaning people who go on retarded reality shows and act like asses in front of the entire country for our amusement instead of getting real jobs and doing "work" like the rest of us) at like 50%.

Golly, $16,000. I'm glad you're so awestruck by what comes out to about four months salary for the average American, you twat.


I'm sorry, could you please define the teams again?

Since having Real Worlders face off against Road Rulers didn't work out (hmm, people who sat around a big house with a hot tub vs. people who had to run up cliffs sideways without a harness, I wonder who's gonna win this one), and Men vs. Women didn't work out much better (sometimes the jokes just write themselves!), this time they arbitrarily divided the teams between "Good Guys" and "Bad Asses".

Which might have been a little less stupid if one of the people on the "Good Guy" team hadn't been Brad from RW San Diego, who was arrested THREE TIMES during the one season, if my memory serves me correctly.


Where the hell is Coral?

Honestly, it just isn't a RW/RR Challenge if Coral isn't around. Who else, when challenged to a wrestling match by a Jesus freak, will utter awesome lines like "Wrestle?! I don't wrestle. I beat bitches UP!"

Damn right you do. This show just isn't the same without you, babe.

Why Are We Still Here?

We all went to a surprise birthday bash for Domini on Friday night. She was definitely surprised when she arrived, and suitably trashed by the time she left.

It had been a while, but it was one of those nights where we ended up wondering why we weren't tossed out on the street. Why might that happen, you ask?

1) Joe getting way too wasted, in typical Joe fashion, and beginning to pass out at a table about 40 minutes into the evening.

2) Jessica taking a liking to one of the female go-go dancers and posing numerous times with her hand uncomfortably close to the dancer's crotch. (Points to Jessica for not remembering this the next day, even with photo evidence)

3) Me spilling a good portion of my Black Label down the back of some girl's shirt. (I'd say I was sorry, but she was a total bitch about the whole thing. I mean, HELLO, that's basically free booze. Start licking, woman.)

4) Domini's apparent inability to stand up by 2am. (I refer you all back to this picture.)


There should probably be more on this list, but somehow no one seems to remember much after 1am. That's always comforting.


We were all still recovering on Saturday night, but still managed to follow up the previous night with a trip to a Mexican restaurant that included yelling, fluffing hair in other customers' faces, driving an entire family at a neighboring table out of the place, and laughing hysterically about it all. We rock.

Look At Me! Look At Me!

So as most of you should know, I'm moving to Australia at the end of the summer, tenatatively for 5 months or so, with a few other travels in between.

And since my main goal in life is to be the center of attention at drinking events, this provides the perfect opportunity for numerous farewell parties where everyone can focus on ME and what I'M doing. (Actually this might be the main reason I'm leaving in the first place, but let's not dwell on motivation.)

Anyway, the point of this post is to let all my friends know that sometime in August we will have a farewell happy hour, followed by farewell karaoke, where each of you will be MANDATED to sing me a song with a goodbye/farewell theme.

Feel free to start posting suggestions here.

Sober at Six Flags

No stories from Friday, since I headed off to Six Flags with my brother and his girlfriend. And I somehow managed not to get drunk and beat the living shit out of Bugs Bunny in front of a gaggle of horrified toddlers. Not that it's ever happened. I'm just saying, that would have been funny. I mean "terrible".

Of course even more impressive is that I didn't do this after we got to the park and Kingda Ka, supposedly the tallest, fastest and most awesomest rollercoaster in the world, wasn't even running. Which is pretty ridiculous since their entire ad campaign has been about it, and I'm pretty sure we saw 83 billboards for it on the way to the park.

Screw you, Six Flags.

P.S. If anyone finds a filthy NY state driver's license, half used Metrocard, and five dollars in coins underneath the Superman ride, shoot me an email. Thanks.

Points for Consistency, Minus a Few For...Everything Else

Left: Zander in France, September 2004; Right: Zander after the Broadway walk, June 2005

If nothing else, these pictures are evidence that I'm probably a good guy to be dating. Regardless of gender or species, apparently.

Worst Death Ever?

Okay, so this pretty much has nothing to do with alcohol (although I will disclose that I had several glasses of wine at lunch), but I was thinking about broadening my blogging horizons anyway, and this seriously grossed me out just now.

A news story about a leg falling from a plane coming in from South Africa that was landing at JFK Airport, and hitting someone's house. Several questions arise:

1) Is South Africa really that bad that someone would attempt to leave the country this way? Granted, I'm sure AIDS and racism aren't exactly a picnic in the park, but was saving up some cash and applying for a visa not a better option than hiding in the wheel compartment of a plane as it was taking off?

2) How did this "leg, with hip and spine attached" make it this far across the Atlantic and choose to separate from the rest of this corpse over Queens? I mean hey, not my favorite borough either, but I wouldn't dump body parts over it just yet.

3) Isn't this seriously one of the most horrible ways to go? Or as my coworker put it "like, whose fate is that?" Indeed.

Drunk of the Week(end)

Still not sure who wins this one.

There's the old Dominican dude who showed up to Belle's BBQ on Sunday wearing a beret and a tight t-shirt proclaiming in large letters: "I'VE GOT NIPPLES." Bonus points for only dropping by to ask for 2 Coronas, when he was already clearly sloshed. At 4pm.

But then, there's this guy:

Imagine you were at a club on a muggy but energetic Saturday evening, you looked over to the dance floor, and saw someone moving around like the Energizer bunny, if it was on crack and had just learned how to do the robot. Poorly.

What would you do? Well, if you're Jessica, you start dancing with him and making it that much worse. Thanks, dear.

Feel free to post your vote in the comments section.

Does Anyone Else Smell That?

So I was just wandering through my office (yeah, that's about as excited as I get about work these days) and I seriously got a whiff of whisky halfway between the water cooler and my desk.

The stages of my reaction to this:

1) Excitement, because I love whisky (specifically scotch, but let's not pretend I'm very picky)

2) Amusement, because I find real alcoholics pretty damn entertaining (in a pathetic way, of course) and I'd think it was really fantastic if there was one right here in the office with me

3) Concern...maybe that wasn't someone else I was smelling...

4) Satisfaction, because at least I have something to blog about today

5) Sadness, because that really shouldn't be what keeps me going in life

No Shame

I usually wouldn't be in a rush to put such an unflattering picture of myself up on the internet. However, in the interest of providing visual representation of what little pride we apparently have in ourselves, I'll get over my vanity and let you observe us in our natural habitat.

As tends to happen so often, we can't remember much of Saturday night, but we know we managed to make it to my coworker Susan's birthday bash and quickly alienate ourselves from everyone else at the bar. Awesome.

Achieving Negative Productivity

Did "dinner" with my family last night, which as usual translates to way too many vodka tonics and a few bottles of wine with maybe a morsel of food or two mixed in there somewhere.

Of course now I'm sitting at work, slightly hungover and really really tired (I don't sleep so well when I've been drinking), which led to the following exchange in a meeting this morning...


Vice President: So what I want to do is... [some long technical description of something or other]

Zander: [spacing out, since he's probably talking to someone else, right?]

VP: So, Zander, maybe you can throw together a project for this?

Zander: [stares blankly at the VP]

VP: Uh...write up the project requirements?

Zander: [blink]

VP: Or...I could start a project...write up the requirements...and basically do your job?

Zander: Uh...sure?


I still don't have a clue what he was talking about, so I guess this all works out pretty well in the end for everyone involved. Wait...

Pour Some Liquor

If I had a 40 on me (and wasn't in an office) I'd be spilling some of it on the ground right now in honor of Emla, whose blog is apparently going off the web for the time being.

*tear*

More shocking though is the fact that she would seriously stop blogging so soon after someone found her blog by searching for "chicks pouring whiskey in their pussies". God knows if someone found my blog by searching for those holy words, I'd be throwing a celebration. Or at least downing a bottle of Stoli in my bedroom. Whatevs.

Goodbye Emla, you shall be missed.

Bits and Pieces

It was a long weekend and only parts of it are coming back to me every now and then. But I have to say that one of my favorite people was the random dude on Saturday night who was walking in my general direction and managed to trip, slam his face into a table, knock over two drinks, and land in two other people's laps. After being helped back up, this superstar just started dancing again like he didn't even know something had happened. Because he probably didn't.

Keep in mind this is only funny because mine wasn't one of the drinks that got knocked over, and I wasn't that guy (for once).