tisdag 18 december 2012

Something is missing

I just received my Iphone 5, and there is absolutely no new feature spawning unicorn vomit. Also, when I said my boyfriend's name to Siri, she asked me "Do you mean death?". She's like a deaf tarot dealer. I feel betrayed.

In other news, I'm hung over like never before. Who would've thought that drinking half a bottle of whisky on an empty stomach could go wrong? I did not see that one coming. I started the evening drinking classy drinks, yet I ended up in the bathroom chanting "I never want to drink again" like a drunken hobo mantra. Thankfully I am a very responsible person; I remembered to cut my hair short before the party so I wouldn't get vomit in my hair. However, I have realized that, similar to five stages of grief, I experience the five stages of drunkenness: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

Stage 1: Denial
"WHAT? I'm not drunk, I'm perfectly sober! The fact that I jumped up on the table singing musical hits from my own imaginary Victorian hip hop-band (with hits like "Shake your angelmaker" and "Smack dat ankle" is just my way of expressing my inner artist!"

Stage 2: Anger
"NO, I don't want a friggin virgin strawberry daquiri! And when we're at it, why are non alcoholic drinks called virgin drinks? I for one prefer my drinks not having had much sexual experience, but I'm kind of a prude that way. On another note, SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!"

Stage 3: Bargaining
"OK, I'll just have this drink, and then I will quit drinking for tonight. So... do you have any opium on you?"

Stage 4: Depression
"They took away my whisky. They. took. away. my. whisky. Don Draper would never stand for this bullshit. Can I please get a pair of boobs to motorboat? It will easy the ache in my soul."

Stage 5: Acceptance
Accepting the fact that your boyfriend has to carry you home because you have decided to make snow angels in your friend's shower whilst yelling "DON'T RUIN MY VISION, I'M TRYING TO EXPRESS MYSELF".

Yeah, I might have a problem.

1 kommentar:

  1. Jag bestämde mig en gång för att göra snöänglar i Norrköping på det sena 90-talet. Det var december och Norrköping hade kanske fått 5 cm snö. Jag slängde mig huvudstupa framlänges (ja, det var efter en lång, blöt natt) slog i hakan något alldeles för jävligt, och tillbringade de nästa två veckorna med en kolsvart stenhård bucklig haka. Jag hade en knölig haka i ett par år efteråt, och de sa att jag antagligen hade krossat käken - fast då var det ju för sent att göra något åt det.

    SvaraRadera