Drink-and-blog

The pace of my social life has picked up yet again in the last couple of weeks. There were birthday parties (Number 1 and Number 2), dinners, unmentioned bar-hops and the like. What has not always been made explicit but has hardly gone unnoticed is my tendency to drink-and-blog. A scary thing, when you think about it. Especially if, like me, you have a hard time keeping your mouth shut to begin with.

It's OK, I told myself. I will simply go back and delete all drunk posts so far. Or, I will rephrase things to make me seem less like a vodka-maniac. Because, you see, I am really not THAT much into drinking. I mean, I don't drink THAT often. I simply happen to enjoy talking about it. Then, again, I AM my mother's daughter, who, upon finding out that Prof. Grady was vegetarian hurried to ask: Oh my! But he does drink alcohol, right?!!?!!!

So, to make the long story short, I have decided to keep all the drunk posts intact. Also, rather than be embarrassed about them, I have decided to celebrate various drunk practices by asking you to tell your funniest drunk stories. No sex and violence please. Just some good ole public humiliation, if possible.

For inspiration, I am leaving you with a photo of my dear friend Vladi who, not unlike yours truly, is a drink-and-call kind of girl.


Two weeks in a row, the two of us go out, drink up, and call Mar to tell him that:

Wearesodrunkandhavingsomuchfunandheshouldbetherewithusand
isheonthephonebecausewecan'treallyhearanythingbutfeltlikecallinganywayand
whereismynextdrinkmotherfucker.