Sex in a Canoe, Pt. 2 (redux)

12.1.2kXI

Last week's rant left you with me sitting on my couch, watching Monday Night Football, eating cheesy Triscuts and drinking Miller Lite beer, having jettisoned Coors Light for political reasons. The first thing I did outta the gate with my new domestic light beer of choice was to royally fuck myself over: I sat there and drank, oh, 18 or so. Got rather shit-housed. Stayed up really late laughing and crying at the TV, cranking the iPod up to ten, smoking a pack of ciggys and generally having a one-man party.

The next morning I felt generally okay but I was in the dog house, cold-busted by my grrrrl for being an idiot and getting wasted all by myself (loser) and waking her up many times throughout the night (jerk). And you know? She was right. I got carried away and I had to deal with the consequences.

One way I delt with the consequences was that I invoked the "Refuse to Booze" option. It is what it sounds like: No Drinking. This did afford me, however, the opportunity to test the age-old expression about light beer: It's Fucking Close To Water. I drank water. Arrowhead bottled water. A lot of it. All day and long into the night. My conclusion? The adage is wrong. Light beer is only close to water in that it's a liquid and drinking lots of it makes you pee a lot. After drinking what roughly amounted to an 18-pack of water I didn't feel a goddamn thing.

Tonight - stay classy at Lone Palm
(it's a euphemism AND a bar!!)

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!