Tag Archives: Booze

J-Man = Jack Daniels

So, one day, I decided to go to a psychic. I think I was feeling crazy about dumb shit going on in my life, whatever, I’d do it again.

I remember the psychic sucked and clearly was pulling shit out of her ass, but she told me that I would meet a man who’s name begins with a “J” and he will be my soul mate and we will ride happily off into the sunset like a magical prince and princess team. She told me two other specific things: I haven’t met him before and we’d meet at a holiday party.

Screen shot 2013-06-05 at 11.16.23 PM

Whatever, lady.

I was fascinated by this, despite the fact that there are like a BAJILLION “J” names, right? Jason, Justin, John, Jacob, Jafar, Jesus, Jose… etc. Does she think I’m completely desperate? Whatever, this game is fun.

So I’m not sorry to admit that I kind of fell for it. The holidays were only a month or so away, so I wanted to test this thing out. I was intrigued. My friends and I pegged him “J-Man” and we started acting really creepy over the possibilities.

Possible J- Man #1: Jacob
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? No
Were we at a holiday party? No
This guy looked somewhat promising. Some friends and I were vacationing in VT for a long weekend. This guy was a friend of a friend I never met before. He wore flannel. He had a scruff beard. I was about to see him as a possibility, until some desperate biddy got all up in his chain and started hitting on him. I think her name was Amanda and she did the flirt-girl laugh. Not J-man. Or, maybe he was her J-man for the night.

hahahaha

Possible J-Man #2: John
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? No
Were we at a holiday party? No
Another friend of a friend. Bitched to him about another guy. What’s wrong with me?

Possible J-Man #3: Sean
Does his name begin with a J? No
Had I met him before? Yes
Were we at a holiday party? No
This guy was a former co-worker and his name did NOT start with a J. OBVIOUSLY a no-go. Got the friend vibe. Whatever, this story’s boring.

muahhaha

Possible J-Man #4: Mike
Does his name begin with a J? No
Had I met him before? Briefly one time
Were we at a holiday party? YES
Mike and I were at an ugly sweater party. I was rockin’ the Bill Cosby, Mike was rockin’ the Snowman sweater vest. I made a joke about how he was wearing a turtleneck. He told me he liked turtlenecks. I think turtlenecks are emasculating. I prefer men that wear shirts showing chest hair.

Screen shot 2013-06-05 at 11.21.10 PM

Actual J-Man: Jack Daniels
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? Many times
Were we at a holiday party? Are birthdays considered holidays?
One night, right around the most stressful time in a law student’s life (finals), I went into total drunk betch phase at someone else’s birthday celebration because I suck and I’m an attention whore. I was texting all the boiz. I was buying tequila shots. I was reaching over the counter of the bar to steal those giant olives because I was drunkgry. I was yelling and bitching and being a total obnoxious mess.

It was because of J-Man, you know, Jack Daniels. Have you met him? He’s a creepy little fuck. You start your night with ONE Jackie and ginge and before you know it you’re telling the cab driver you’re going to puke and then you bring a bowl to bed so you can puke all over yourself ALL DAY until your ONLY ONE TRUE FRIEND brings you McDonalds and forces you to keep your food down.

After that brief fling with Jackie D, I called it quits with him for a long while. I ignored his seething glare in the liquor store.  I walked right by when I saw him, half-opened, by my liquor cabinet. We were on a break.

We’re on better terms now, but I still get that puke-mouth taste whenever I sip down some Jackie D.

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The Ten Different Types of Frat Guys

My earlier Bro-night post made me start to think about the Bro’s preppier cousin, The Frat Guy. Like Bros, every girl needs to experience a Frat Guy night, despite their striking similarities. Lucky for you, I’m here to help define The Frat Guy while I teach the difference between these two closely related man-types. I’ll also outline the ten different types of Frat Guys too, in case you, like me, enjoy catergorizing people.

Now, most importantly I must make it clear that that every Frat Guy is a Bro, but not every Bro is a Frat Guy. This is because every Frat Guy needs to have Bro qualities in order to be considered a Frat Guy, but not all Bros are in frats. Does that make sense? It will. Oh, and if you’re a Frat Guy and believe that you do not fit into one of these different types, then you are either in denial or you simply do n0t exist. Here goes:

The Party Guy

  1. The One Who Joined Because Of Dad- He’s pretty serious about the legacy of this frat and enjoys doing all the stuff the other frat guys just tolerate, like volunteering, fundraising and networking. His mom comes to visit every two weeks or so to bring fresh laundered clothes. All of his extra-curriculars will look great on a law school application, and there’s a 90 percent chance that his name ends with a “II”, “III” or “IV.”
  2.  The Party Guy-  John Blutarsky from Animal House. If you don’t understand, you’ve never seen that movie. If you’ve never seen that movie, you should. It’s a classic.
  3. The Kind-of Gay One– This guy is way serious about brotherhood and everyone kind of suspects he’s gay but would ever actually say anything. He takes the bromance jokes too far by saying stuff like, “Bro, let’s spoon tonight if we don’t score some hot chicks,” or “Wouldn’t it be funny if we got drunk and had a threesome one time?”
  4. The Sensitive One Who Brings All the Girls in but Can Never Seal the Deal- I think this name pretty much explains itself, however, I must add that he loves to play guitar and wears beanie hats.
  5. The Druggie- He’s scoring drugs, mostly E or weed, and you can never tell if he’s high or not. (He usually is.)
  6. Everyone’s Best Friend- He’s been elected social chair and does all the networking for parties. He’s very similar to The Party Guy, the difference being his charm and an overall more wholesome demeanor.
  7. The Hot One With The Sorority Girlfriend- Goddamn it. They met at freshman orientation or in high school or something and are still going strong. They’ll never break up and if they do, cursed is the bitch who does it.
    Won’t their kids be so cute?
  8. The Manwhore- It’s every Frat Guy’s goal to bang lots of chicks, but this one is better at it than everyone because he’s a smooth-talker and has abs that Greek statues dream about. He plows through biddies faster than The Party Guy can win a boat race, despite having a reputation that extends across the free world.
  9. The Athlete– AKA dumb jock.
  10. The Foreigner– This guy is from Europe or something and uses his accent to score chicks. It usually works. Hell, I’d fall for it.

A quality that every single Frat Guy must have is the “love” or “feigned love” of drinking. This is very important, and it is also what makes every Frat Guy a Bro. Frat Guys and Bros like to drink more than you do. Even if they don’t, they pretend to and have at least two or three exaggerated stories as their go-to’s in case they think you don’t believe them.

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“Bro” Encounters of the “Broseph” Kind

Every girl should have at least one obnoxious “Bro” night and this past Friday I got mine over with. My BFF and I went out in Boston, which happens to be Bro-capital of not only the United States but the entire universe. I know that different regions of the universe have different definitions of what “Bros” are, but mine is the only right one because it matches the best-voted definition on Urban Dictionary:

I crossed out the word “rugby” because it’s the best sport ever. “Bros” would never have big enough balls to be ruggers. FACT.

Boston is “Bro” -nation not only because of the rich-kid college scene but because of its proximity to Fenway Park, Cape Cod, Nantucket and Newport, Rhode Island, which are the only “red” areas in the predominantly “blue” state of Massachusetts. (I know Rhode Island is its own state, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.)

Anyways, I’ll get back on track.  My friend and I were dancing when Brian Littrell’s doppleganger started to white-guy dance with us. I noticed some solid “Bro” indicators immediately: classic good looks, a pastel buttoned-down Oxford, a pair of aviator sunglasses (Hello? It’s December!) and the inability to fake sobriety.

Now, despite living in Brosephotamia, I don’t dig “Bros.” I find them updatable and I respect my Dad too much to ever bring one home to meet him. My friend, however, was in heaven. Brian Littrell seemed to dig her too, so I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to play wingman and  flirt with one of his “Bros” because I’m a good friend.

I met Jason Segal, Marty McFly and Matt Damon. I mean, I didn’t actually meet them, but those are the celebrities his friends most closely resembled and I want to give a visual here. I kind of started hitting it off with Marty McFly. Now, I want to make it clear that I nicknamed him Marty McFly not only because he has the same haircut, but because he was wearing one of those bubble jackets resembling Marty McFly’s orange vest. This is another “Bro” indicator. 

Hey Biff, get a load of this guy's life preserver. Dork thinks he's gonna drown.

We chatted and old-people danced for a while. He bought me a drink, which was surprisingly un-Bro-like. I mean, aren’t “Bros” spoiled rich boys who expected to be waited on? Maybe I was wrong my whole life. Seemed gentlemanly.

This image was shattered once Marty McFly started to get all roid-rage on some nice hippie I was making polite conversation with. I guess I’m his property now.

Anyways, the night progressed and we decided to go back to their apartment. I agreed to do so for journalistic purposed only. I’ll admit- I was kind of intrigued. It was like watching the National Geographic channel.

Since I was drunk and I’m mean when I’m drunk, I decided to tell these “Bros” they’re “Bros.” Funny thing about “Bros” is that it’s OK for them to call each other it, but once they get called out, they get defensive and sort of hate you. They kept asking me why they were “Bros” and despite being intoxicated and bitchy, I didn’t have the heart to tell them. Instead, I’ll tell all of you here and hope they never read it:

  1. Everything in bold mentioned above.
  2. They had cardboard sides of Busch Light thirties taped on the kitchen wall.
  3. They yelled and high fived more than anyone should.
  4. They bragged about banging chicks. (All guys do this, but “Bros” are extra douchey because they brag about taking a woman to classy dinner for the sole purpose of “getting it in” and then ignoring her calls after. This was an actual conversation they had with me in the room. WTF?!?)
  5. They got into arguments with each other rather quickly and then got over it by “hugging it out.”
  6. They all owned and wore those trucker hats that Ashton Kutcher made famous.
  7. They listen to house music but also like classic rock more than you do.
  8. There’s always at least one fight to assert their “Bro” alpha-male status.

Right, about that fight part. Well, since no “Bro” ever ends a night without some sort of conflict, Brian Littrell decided to start screaming obscenities at Matt Damon, puff out his chest and head-butt him. Blood was everywhere. Needless to say, my friend and I decided to dip out at that point, ending my first and (hopefully) last “Bro” encounter.

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Horror Story Drinking Games?

So this past weekend I played a drinking game called Edward Fortyhands. I’m sure everyone’s heard of it- it’s pretty standard in college campuses throughout the good ol’ US of A. Basically, you attach a forty to each hand with duct tape. The winner is the first who finishes both forties without dying, puking or shitting themselves. Cool, huh?

I wanted to go balls-to-the-wall with my drinking so I decided to change Edward Fortyhands to Human Centipede. Thats right- attaching people to each other by way of a duct-taped forty. There were about seven people attached on a huge line of connected forties. (Please note: we were not attached mouth to butt like in the actual movie, but attached by our hands. I’m not that fucked up.)

I know that this means I would technically be drinking less than Edward Fortyhands, but the sheer ridiculousness of the Human Centipede appealed to me. Plus, I cannot finish two forties on my own without dying, puking or shitting myself.

OK, so in this bout of binge-drinking creative genius, I began to think of other horror movies I could make into drinking games. The Ring? Psycho? Alien? What else? Pans Labrynth? (weirdest movie ever!)

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I Hope My Husband’s Not the Creepy Uncle

With Thanksgiving around the corner, I’ve been thinking a lot about family, which got me thinking of stereotypes. When people are stereotyping families, they always include the Creepy Uncle on the list. This made me realize that I don’t have one. There is NO Creepy Uncle in my family.

I know that I shouldn’t be upset by this, but in having multiple Creepy-Uncle-free generations, it’s only natural to conclude that my generation may be due to reap one. My siblings and many cousins are already paired off and I see no sign of Creepy Uncle with them. Does this mean my husband will be him then? Is my future husband- wherever he may be- the newest Creepy Uncle? God, I hope not.

I feel as though women may be able to figure whether or not a potential suitor is Creepy Uncle material. Here are some solid indicators:

  1. Is he a big drinker? Creepy Uncles always get too drunk and rowdy so chances are, if your man drinks then he could start getting awkward at family functions. This sucks for me because I tend to be attracted to dudes who drink a lot. I’ll have to watch out on this one.
  2. Is he a manwhore? Creepy Uncles have probably been around the block a couple times (hence #3).
  3. Is he agressive? The Creepy Uncle will definitely hit on all of your relatives, so I’m sure that during courting, he’d be way forward and touchy-feely. Lucky for me, I have personal-space issues so I hate guys that are like that.
  4. Is he childish? Creepy Uncles have probably been coddled by their parents and expect people to do everything for them. They pick on the little kids and think that it’s funny when it’s actually super annoying. I would never tolerate this behavior.

So there’s my list for all of you single ladies. I wish a non-Creepy-Uncle-husband for all of you.

Image: SNL “Creep”

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Free Love, People!

I recently posted a blog article, “I Don’t Mean to Sound Like a Total Bitch, But…” the other day and it made me start to think about other phrases people use that are vastly ineffective and obviously untrue. One of the best ones is when people say, “I swear to God I NEVER do this!” when they’re having a one-night stand. OK, #1 of course you have! You are not fooling anyone, especially after saying that and #2 who cares, anyways? You might as well just not care if the other person thinks you’re a total whore and just roll with it. You probably won’t ever see them again after that night and chances are you probably won’t even want to anyways. They picked you up from that bar because they thought you were hot and easy, not because you’re good with kids or had a 3.8 GPA at an Ivy League school.

Now, I’m going to sound hypocritical here but I’ve never actually DONE that. Like, I’ve never had a one night stand before. (This is because of years and year of parochial schooling, which I’ll touch upon during a later post. Don’t think that this means I’m all judgmental and bitchy about those who have.) However, if I ever did, I’d never say that “I’ve never done this” phrase because I’d want to play it off all cool like I’m a badass. I’d want them to assume that I’m an amazing super-slut. That way, they wouldn’t worry about me possibly being clingy after and I wouldn’t worry about seeming like a tight-ass. It’d be win-win.

Also, check out this blog article that talks about one night stands, too. It’s hilarious!

Image courtesy of The Frisky

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Drunk Texting

I’m a drunk texter and I hate it. I can’t even tell you how many Saturday and Sunday mornings I’d wake up saying to myself, “Shit, I can’t believe I texted THAT person! What the fuck did I even SAY?” I’d then backtrack through my entire texting history and realize that I also texted 1,843,232 other people I shouldn’t have.

With such experiences, I’ve come to find that deleting my entire texting history just eliminates the desire to mull over my previous night’s indiscretions. I mean at this point, I’ve said enough embarrassing shit via drunken text so how bad could it actually be? They’re probably drunk, I’m drunk- whatever, right?

However, for some reason, I still sometimes become upset over it. I get flashbacks of the shit I say and inwardly cringe. I think the content itself doesn’t really upset me as much as my ability to use perfect grammar and punctuation while being completely and utterly black-out shit-faced. This stemmed from my desire to have the person figure I’m not THAT drunk. Over the years, I’ve slowly become a master of pristine black-out drunk-text spelling and grammar. This skill has now backfired because I’m quite confident that the receivers of my drunken texts now assume that I’m not drunk at all and would, in fact, soberly say the ridiculous bullshit I drunkenly text.

Currently, I feel as though this drunk-text pendulum needs to swing a wee bit back into the illegible, “I-can’t-even-GUESS-at-what-the-fuck-she-was-trying-to-say” zone. Sometimes I realize this and fuck up some letters and add numbers to let them know I’m not sober. I haven’t consistently been able to master this though. Being drunk makes you forget and being a drunk-texter makes you just want to send the stupid text message out already and be done with it.

I know that some people are just going to say, “Well why do you need to send texts in the first place? Get rid of your phone.” That’s not that easy because A.) drunk texting is an addiction and B.) if you’re lost in a dive bar and two of your friends are about to leave without you, you need your cell phone there to make sure you get that phone call.

Image courtesy of this guy

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