drinking

The secret cure for New Year’s doldrums—Cachaca!

A zillion microbes for your child to play with

My typist abandoned me today to take the kids to an indoor play area, a filthy, sweltering sauna (she complained) that could prompt any sound atheist to conceive of purgatory as being fully possible.

The smell at the play area? Deep-fried things, not necessarily food.

The patrons? The sub-70-IQ ass-crack parade, a truck ride away from Walmart. Big hair, small vocabulary.

Their progeny? The apparent hope of our planet.

If my mum sounds like a miserable snob and potential eugenics proponent, consider that she, with her crap finances, losing snakes-and-ladders game of a career, thrashingly desperate parenting, inability to vacuum, and impending 43rd birthday, is experiencing a post-New Year’s letdown.

I can relate. Our house is officially dry—if you ignore the Malibu dregs and worm-inhabited mescale my parents insist could poison us. A blue bin of empties (which my mum forgot to put out for the collection truck) attests to the fact that we are…bereft of alcohol.

No wonder my mum is being such a drag. If she’s a fraction of the alcoholic I am, she must be suffering. My dad too—he’s watched, like, a hundred episodes of Monk.

I tried to cheer them up by reminding them about the Brazilian rum sample headed our way.

Me: Make sure you’re home for the Cachaca delivery.

To make a copacabana cosmo, you need Cachaca.

Mum: The what?

Me: C-A-C-H-A-C-A. Tropical rum. UPS. You’re welcome.

Mum: Excuse me?

Me: So you have to be home for that. And the painting. We need a frame for that too.

Mum: Why don’t you answer the door?

Me: I’m a bear. Bears are scary. The UPS driver will freak.

UPS tracking says it's in St. Paul, MN. It's getting closer. Thank you, Dan Lacey!

Mum: I’m out tomorrow, sorry, buddy.

Me: NO! You have to be home! I need that Cachaca!

Mum: You’ll live. They’ll put a sticker on the door and we’ll get it later.

Me: Noooooooo!!!!!

Mum: I doubt it’s coming anyway. Seriously, who would send you alcohol?

OMG, my parents are so harsh.

4 reasons why you need a Bloody Mary right now

My Fellow Inebriates,

Twelve hours of swilling amber ale, champagne, red wine and Malibu leads to several things:

  • a furry tongue (if it isn’t already)
  • massive dehydration (especially if you’re non-polyester-based)
  • a thundering headache

Spending half the night in jail never helps either.

realgirlskitchen.com

New Year’s Day is only tolerable with the hair of the dog. And if you still haven’t mixed yourself a Bloody Mary yet today, then you must be a masochist. Why try to convince yourself that bacon and eggs will solve the problem? Hair of the dog trumps pig flesh and every other hangover solution.

But why?

There are a few schools of thought:

  • A hangover is essentially withdrawal from alcohol. Replenishing your system with fresh vodka will effectively quell its cries of privation.
  • The worst hangover symptoms are caused by methanol, an alcohol congener and the principal culprit in darker drinks such as red wine and bourbon. Methanol is metabolized by alcohol dehyrogenase—but so is ethanol. In fact, your body favors ethanol as a substrate, so by feeding yourself some nice clear booze, you generate a processing uptick. Arguably you simply delay the inevitable hangover, but in an oh-so-pleasant way.
  • Alcohol causes a sugar spike and hypoglycemic low. Drinking more of it is the fastest route to a new sugar bounce and happy times again.
  • The hair of the dog is homeopathic—“like cures like.”

If it’s good enough for Nazareth, it’s good enough for me.

You found me how?

My Fellow Inebriates,

With New Year impending we’re awash in Top 10 lists. Being housebound and permanently drunk, I can’t weigh in very intelligently on the Top 10 of anything. I can’t even count to ten right now. Here, instead, are my favorite search terms from 2011.

By “search terms” I mean phrases people entered into search engines that somehow brought them to this site. Here’s a sampling:

why is alcohol so good

Here’s an example of a search engine working optimally. Every day is a paean to alcohol—because it is so very good.

random christmas turkey

I guess, depending on your lifestyle, having an entire hand inside you could qualify as random.

unicorn hug

There’s only been one unicorn mentioned on this site: Penelope the Unicorn, Barack Obama’s constant companion and co-worshiper of the Baby Jesus. Just the other day Dan Lacey emailed with a tracking number for the print he’s sending of the painting that escaped me on ebay. I’m so excited!

jack daniels jim beam johnnie walker jose cuervo

Somebody’s thinking like I do.

watermelon dude

I guess if you saw this once you might remember it and search for it again. I hope the searcher meant to find this pic.

calendar top shit

What does this even mean? How did it funnel someone here?

anti gay charity

Was somebody actively seeking out an anti-gay charity? Yikes.

santa flashing

Who wouldn’t want to see that?

beer throw up

Can’t argue with a search engine.

should I drink a beer

Uh, yeah.

bears nude guys

Bears and nude guys? Nude guys who are bearlike? I don’t know, so here you go.


nothing like a good spanky

I’ve never written about that (believe it or not).

meat liquor

To make liquor you need two things: plant matter and water. Anybody out there attempting to craft a meat liquor, drop me a line (but not a sample).

freak nativity scene

Here? On this site?

singha girl

You got it.

Thanks to everyone who visited this year. Have a delightfully drunken (but safe) New Year’s celebration, and I’ll catch you on the flip side.