I’m Hungover

You know what’s fun? Bar-hopping and flirting with all the tall manly bouncers. You know what’s not fun? The morning after, when it feels like the chestburster from Alien lives inside you, except it’s made of puke.

I would like to kill myself just to not feel like a giant brick with a stomachache, but if I did, I don’t know how you would all survive without my beautiful posts to get you through the day. And being the wonderful girl that I am, I just couldn’t let that happen, so I guess I’ll live to write another day.

But seriously, vodka cranberries and Bahama Mamas, you are vicious and I hate you. (Until next weekend, and then we can kiss and make up.) And as for you stupid lucky non-hungover Readers: THIS.

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Put This in Your Cookbook

How to Have a Good St. Patty’s Day: the Recipe

Ingredients:

  • Slutty green clothes (1 pair)
  • Alcohol (6 shots/3 mixed drinks; add more to taste)
  • Loud bar with grindy dance music and strobe lights (1)
  • Friends (any number; must be flavorful)
  • Money (a lot)

Directions:

  1. Put on slutty clothes with friends.
  2. Go to bar.
  3. Buy mixed drinks. Mix them liberally with friends and bar.
  4. Buy shots. Shake vigorously on the dance floor.
  5. Black out.

Seriously, it’s foolproof. Way easier than whipping up some souffle or whatever-the-fuck with Martha Stewart-level difficulty and weird foreign ingredients.

Homey Home

Being home has many Amazing Good Things, like real food and a bed with a million blankets on it. But home also lacks three pivotal aspects of my life: sexy time, alcohol, and 420 friendliness.

That being said, though, my bed is soooo comfy right now.

Bringing Bartering Back

Sadly, I forgot to water my potted Money Tree, and it died. (And also it never existed in the first place.) So. I am left in a pickleishly pickley situation, otherwise known as Being Broke. But that’s not a problem, because I have devised a genius plan that will not only help me get slizzard tonight, but will solve the economy crisis.

Ready for this gem? Bartering, baby.

I mean, come on! We can just trade things for other things and then we won’t even need money! Like right now, I have a craving for some ice cream. So I’m going to mosey down to the gas station and give them half a mitten in exchange for a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. I think it’s a pretty solid trade.

Also, my brain just took a little meandering break for a wee bit (it was bored), and came up with another totally solid idea. That solves the, um, drunk-and-hungry-at-the-same-time crisis. ALCOHOLIC ICE CREAM. Think about all the possibilities! Mint chocolate-chip with Bailey’s!  Pecan and Bacardi! Vanilla swirled with Raspberry Smirnoff! (Trademarked to the Wild Hearts, bitches–unless you wanna make some and bring it to me…)

I would fully trade two mittens for some of that.