At the onset of '08 I had resolved to curb drinking on school nights. As I've mentioned before, the week between Thanksgiving and New Years (it seemed like a week to me) was one long, arduous work out... on my liver. And post-mummers celebration I've been doing pretty good. Declining after-work happy hour get-togethers, opting for tea with dinner over wine for dinner, and keeping ragers to an every other or every third weekend. All was going great....until yesterday. Apparently all of us here at cake&icecream had cranky-sandwiches for lunch and by quittin' time we were a bona fide bunch of Debby Downers.
A couple of us had decided "to hell with the rules" and scheduled a wine and cheese night, heavy on the wine. Afterall. this was the humane thing to do. With the moods we were in we were liable to destroy innocent men, women, and children (o, how their bodies break!) who happened apon our paths. Super Tuesday '08 would surely go down in history as Bloody War-Path day.
Jenny arrived around 8 sans vin. Fine, I thought, its just going to be a violent blood bath, and I was ok with this. "Let the executions begin!" we would cry and giddily stamp our feet. But lo, she pulled two giant, golden beauties from a paper bag. Colt. Forty. Five.
Ahhhhh, assholes and innocent by-standers, you live another day....
The night wandered on with candid conversations of vaginal health, boys and heart strings, pain killers, new clothes, and ended with a Toadies sing along.
Works everytime.
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