Too Much Alcohol Is Never A Good Thing

One day there were these 3 men in a bar. They all got drunk and went home. The next day, they gathered together and talked about how drunk they were. 

The first guy said, "I was so drunk last night, I made out with the lamp." The second guy said, "That’s nothing, I got my DUI." The third guy said, "I went home and blew chunks." 

The first and second guy asked the third guy what was so bad about that and the third guy said, "NO! You guys don’t understand! Chunks is my dog!" 

source: http://www.jokes4us.com/dirtyjokes/threemeninabarjokes.html

Hung Happens

So this was me yesterday.

I spent the day on the sofa, nursing a slight hangover, but here's the thing, I don't really remember drinking enough to be feeling that way. I scanned my brain for a clue as to why my body just couldn't move like it should. Is this what happens when you get old?? It started out innocently enough.

We went over to a friends house and she had concocted a wonderful home brew of hooch. The homemade Margarita. Ahhh heavenly, going down, and we drank them from tiny Grappa glasses. It seemed very innocent. Surely two or three of these small aperitifs were fine for a buxom blonde like me to handle? Right? But I forgot to mention the lethal factor to this hangover equation. Patron.

AH yes, Mexican rage, and when it hits you you are doomed...BUT, after three of four tiny shots, we'll call them, of Margarita, we were off to the restaurant where I proceeded to have two more. One while we waited for the table and one at the table. Again, Candy was feeling so Dandy, she ordered the drinks by name brand, "Petron Margarita, please." All was well by most standards.

I was having such a good time that I didn't really notice that I didn't eat my dinner. It wasn't good, I remember that, and I know I ate some stuff at the table, but not enough to sustain said buxom blonde. I must have really been feeling good because I then drank some red wine with the dinner and you know how the waiter keeps filling the wine glass when you buy a bottle? Here's where I must have gotten into trouble.

I then ate the dessert. SUGAR. Now I know I'm drunk because, even thought I had just a few bites, I don't eat sugar and here I am imbibing and eating sugar. Still, I'm fine and when I get home I see the kids, talk for a bit, then retire to bed. ALL FINE. No bed spins, nausea, nothing just a drift off to slumber but when I woke up? My head felt like a 100 lb anvil.

And that's how I spent the day yesterday, horizontal on the sofa and feeling heavy. Now I know I have hit the liquor harder than that and survived before. What the hell made this one so bad?
My only consolation on yesterday's events? I watched the Steelers whomp the Jets ass..

So not a total loss.

The Wearin O' The Green

“God invented whiskey so the Irish wouldn’t rule the world!”~ Unknown

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

The Good Drunk

Let's discuss for a moment the possibility of getting your drink on in a good way. Is it possible to be in the above condition in a good way? Probably not. Poor Linds, for sure, had some chemical friends running through her system to aid her in the process of getting her to this point.

I'm talking about simple alcohol, hooch, moonshine, Jesus Juice, whatever you want to call it, and nine out of ten times it kicks the-ever-loving-crap out of me. Anything over two glasses of wine and momma is in trouble the next day. I'm not dumb enough to forget that I am too old to re-live my college dorm days and live to tell about it.

BUT-Saturday night was that one out of ten times that I did something right.

The weather was surprisingly beautiful and My Guy and I found ourselves alone for dinner, as my daughter took her brother (shock) out to dinner with her friends instead of hanging with the rents. We decided to go to our favorite Chinese restaurant (I know-yet again) as I had a hankering for some sushi and the restaurant serves both Japanese and Chinese. The best thing about the Chinese restaurant is the bartender is extremely generous, and I usually indulge in a Mai Tai or two.

We sat at our favorite table, enjoyed just a small amount of food; sushi for me-Chinese for him and had a couple of drinks. Normally, after one Mai Tai, I am feeling the sweet effects of the concoction and can stop there, but we were having such a good time, talking and debating about our life, that before I knew it I had consumed two Mai Tai's quite effortlessly. On the ride home, I got a call from my best friend and her guy, asking if we were interested in lighting a fire and chilling out together. We were feeling no pain and were game! It was on. No sooner had we started a gorgeous fire in the fire pit out back, my friends arrived and we continued to drink some more.

I was out of my standard Captian Morgan's spiced rum, so Drunky McDrunkerstein reached into the back of the liquor cabinet, only to find some Gosseling's rum I had brought home from Bermuda a couple of years ago. Tasted good, so what the hell! We proceeded to drink some more. It was one of those nights that the stars were bright, the company was great, the conversation robust and hilarious and the evening went off without a hitch. We could not have planned it better, had it not just happened spontaneously.

Somewhere around my fourth drink I announced to the group that I was indeed, quite tanked, but feeling good. It was almost as if I had just realized it, as the inebriation was a compliment to the evening, not the center of attention. My friends guy is a liquor distributor and as we were making the fourth re-fill on the libations, he said,

"Who's drinking the Gosselings?"

To which I replied, "I am. I brought that home from a friend's wedding in Bermuda a few years back and never opened it. It's pretty good actually."

"It should be," he said. "It's 151 proof."

I couldn't believe it. Here I was, two drinks (at home) deep, on a 151 proof high. Now I'm thinking I'm going to pay for this tomorrow, but since I live for today, I never look back.

As most old farts do, we wrapped things up at a reasonable hour. I decided that I needed to take the precautionary 3 Advil tablets before bed, as I anticipated a killer hang-over and passed ou.. er, um, went to bed. I awoke Sunday morning anticipating the arrival of death. I opened my eyes and moved slowly. As my feet touched the floor, I realized that I felt fine. After my walk to the bathroom and back, I was still fine. No headache at all and no nausea. You could have knocked me over with a feather, I was ok. I felt no adverse effects of a hang-over at all. I couldn't believe it.

I got a text from my friend, thanking us for a great evening and commenting on the great time. I have no idea how I escaped that scenario unscathed, but I did. The good drunk it was, indeed, and I will not question it.

How's that for playing the odds? Maybe next weekend I need to go to Foxwoods and try my luck, as I seem to be rolling on a hot streak.