Saturday, June 9, 2007

Tequila is not My Friend

It was odd enough to recceive a comment from a stranger. It was odder to learn my blog has a twin. At first I thought "Fantastic, my blog has an evil twin. Now it's going to have affairs with the local handsome-yet-emotionally-distant surgeon and break his vulnerable heart yet again, steal babies from hospitals, and forge paternity documents all while pretending to be my blog." So I checked out the nefarious counterpart over at To my horror, it was nice! It was the kind of blog your mother would want you to see on a regular basis, not like some blogs that give you your first joint and write the embarrasing details of it on the bathroom wall at school. This means that my blog is the evil twin and I must remain vigilant for fear that my blog seduces a drunken Antonio and fakes a pregnancy in order to steal him from the sweet and seraphic Angeline.

After 31 days of anticipation, the Great Debauchery of 6/08 has come to an end. In the beginning the plan was for a few co-workers and me to take off early and spend the afternoon drinking rather than do any actual work, while being paid to do so. However, plans were elaborated upon and the new mission was for many co-workers to get and keep me drunk as long as possible and burst my karaoke cherry. We started out at a Mexican place (the kind where two of the waiters know English) with chimichanges and strawberry margaritas. Unfortunately, 3 margaritas didn't make much a dent in my sobriety and gave me wicked bad diarrhea (which I recently learned is the union of "dia-" comlete, through, and "-rrhea" to flow). We reconvened at Chicago's house to throw expired food at her garage (the blueberry yogurt was awesome but the cucumber was kind of...leaky) and play "Circle of Death" for 5 hours. Everyone got drunk and bonded and explained why they treated so-and-so as a such-and-such at work and how it will never happen again. I was taken to a bar that served no hard liquor, which pissed me off, and was fed jalapenos by hand and forced to do two karaoke songs. Ned from South Park probably sings better than I do, so I resorted to jumping up and down a lot and holding the microphone away from my mouth. Outside the bar, a group of three boys arguing over a slut confronted me about why two friends and I were laughing at them. I told them we had been making out, so they asked us to please come inside and join them as soon as possible. Yeah, right. I crashed on a friend's couch and woke up feeling very mortal. I've never had a hangover that two rolaids couldn't tame, apparently they were just waiting to all gang up on me this morning.

Mission accomplished.

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