Am I getting old?
On Saturday, Corn and I went to a friend's house - not a bar.
We shared wine - not beer.
We got a little tipsy - not frat-boy hammered.
But then - we drunk-dialed.
Uh oh.
But it was to order a monogrammed doggie bed.
I am laming out. Please send help.
14 comments:
Take two Vodka coolers, tear your shirt off and run around the block wearing each other's underwear.
I don't know if that will bring back frat-boy drunken memories, or help you feel younger, but damn, it should make for an interesting blog entry!
Pardon me if I'm a buzz-kill, but be careful with drunk-dialling. It's kinda hard to stay anonymous in the era of call display.
Besides, can we still call it dialling, when it's really button-punching? I haven't had a rotary-dial phone in about 20 years.
One more thing, N@: Whatsamatta? Yer muddah fuhget how ta post?
I only wish that would happen to me...not that's lame...Next time you're home I will take you out and get you properly sloshed, my treat.
Hey Nat,
I say as long as you don't make a habit of it, then you're ok (just think of it as your friends being old, and you didn't want to be rude). Next week you should get hammed twice to make up for it though. Oh, and thanks for playing Jimmy Ray this afternoon! Hehehehehe -I turned it up and was jammin' in my car with the windows down. Good times.
Laters!
Meaghan
N@
Zoey has a point, I suggest you Get tanked then follow that with streaking down St Catherine’s Street. Have Ma Horton pick you up at Place des Arts in an unmarked Van.
That’ll give you a kick in the adolescence
Reference “Old School” for more details for more details on youth inspired Adult mayhem.
You only did this now? Heck I have been in that rutt for years - lol
YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF PUPS!
Here's what awaits you: Having a good time, but around 10:30 or 11:00, hoping someone else decides to leave. Then the whole joint empties out, and you're not the party pooper, cuz you're not the first one to leave!
I must be getting old, because I read the second last sentence of your post and couldn't figure out "laming" -- my train of thought was "Lambing??? Lambing out? Is this some new hip slang? Does it mean Nat's becoming all docile, like a wee lamb?" I swear it took 5 minutes for my brain to go "laming = lame + ing"...and I am an English teacher. So, I guess I am the truly "lamb" one!
I tried a new kind of chips today - Smoky Bacon flavoured. They were good. You don't know lame.
Last week, I had a glass of wine with dinner when we had relatives visiting from Europe, and it was my first alcoholic drink in about six weeks.
See? You're still miles away from lame.
However, I have never been a person to think that either sh*t-faced or frat-boy behaviour equated to cool...I was more of a played-in-the-rock-band-do-practically-anything-on-a-dare-hey-try-the-mushrooms-we-just-picked-'em kind of guy.
Now I prefer to try new flavours of chips or watch Treehouse TV with my kids. Sometimes change isn't just good, it's necessary.
Bob! Save for a few nights here and there -I am already AT that stage! I was there in my mid-20s! I go to bed at between 9:30 and 10 on weeknights. I am a wild party. Rah. Rah. Ray.
I love your fratboy ideas, my lambs. Perhaps I should thrill you with a good anecdote one of these days. As soon as I get one.
For your net info , I have been too busy too post. The frat boys keep dancing on my keyboard in plaid undies singing * hey baby let's go to Vegas *.Lamb out.
Wait 'til you doodz buy a house... then you'll go over to a neighbour's house and drink home made wine - not wine, wine.
You'll still get tipsy, but you likely won't drunk-dial. However adding parts to a snowman on someone's front yard will make you giggle your tukus off!
Sad.
Milky
Sad? Pathetic? Lame? Not necessarily. It's the half full/half empty thing -- a matter of perspective.
So if you giggle your tukus off or get some other pleasure out of it, good! You can't avoid getting older unless you're dead, and that's not a very desirable option.
And you know what I don't miss? The frat boy hangover that makes you barf into the snowbank the next morning on the way to class, when the cold air hits you in the face as you leave your apartment building!
Sad? I think not.
Where the hell is Kneesox these days?????
Post a Comment