So I was basically drunk for the last 5 days and for some reason I'm feeling rather functional. Which is a sign of actual alcohol addiction, but I won't worry about that until I need a major organ transplant. I'm clever like that.
Friday was the usual drinking with coworkers, followed by hanging out with my actual friends (just kidding, I love drinking with my coworkers, they laugh at my jokes because most of them work for me). Ended that night the best way I know how -- shoving massive amounts of Indian food into my face (seriously, it could have fed a family of 4) and passing out smelling like curry.
Saturday was pretty much awesome. One of the things I love about the lifestyle here is that it's never too early to start drinking. I personally think it should wait until after 12 noon, so I scheduled an afternoon drinking session with friends starting at 2.30. Ellen and I split about 5 bottles of white wine between us, and a few of the guys wanted to catch up and figured they would order double Jack Daniels and Cokes for most of the evening. While this ended in an unfortunate number of people spewing their guts out well before 12am, I'm going to classify this night as a hit. This is of course excluding hearing for the 5th time about how a certain someone was caught by his uncle having sex with his cousin. Ew ew ew ew ew.
What I love about drinking early is that if you have the good sense to head home before midnight, you wake up feeling not too bad the next day. Sunday started out innocent enough, seeing a midday showing of Pirates of the Caribbean II. However we quickly found ourselves opening up a few bottles of Carlton Draught before 2pm, and back at the previous night's bar by 4pm. Which of course left me in stunning form for Monday morning at work, but it's nothing they haven't seen before.
The only other thing I feel obligated to mention is on Sunday when we were at someone's house, and when one of our hosts asked the other to get him a beer, the second responded with "When did your last black man die?", clearly forgetting he had a certified negro sitting in his lounge room. Naturally we capitalized on this later by calling him a racist until we had him in tears, in the middle of a bar. I literally laughed so hard my jaw was hurting. I love being evil.
When I told someone else about this, he didn't bat an eye -- apparently it's a rather common saying?? How did I miss this? And of course I'm the only person who hears a racist expression and is less upset about the racism than he is about not having come up with it first.