Drinking Game Friday is getting desperate...

Ugh, happy Drinking Game Friday. OR WHATEVER. Sorry. Multiple plans I had for this weekend fell through and now I'm all bummed out and angsty like a middle-schooler with no date to the eighth grade dance.

I origionally had plans to go to New Orleans this weekend for Rachel's bachelorette party, which would have not only been my first bachelorette party but also my first time in New Orleans. (I'm hungover just thinking about it.) However, since my job pays me in high-fives and complementary bottles of Deer Park water, that's not so much possible. Then I was supposed to go to Atlantic City with original-co-blogger Eddie and the infamous Tulane Chris (not Recrap Tuesdays Chris) for a weekend of 100% pure debaucherous fun–Jersey style! I even had a god-awful fringed dress to shimmy and shake in with the other tacky, slot-machine playing yentahs! Alas, I checked my bank account last week and the balance was a picture of my mom with her arms crossed with a stern look on her face instead of a dollar amount. Sigh...

I'm especially pissed off that everything fell through this weekend because I had made a very conscious decision to get sloppy, black-out, ~~*~~mAkE 0uT w/ rAndOm B0yZ~~*~~, bad decision making, bra losing, corner puking, regrettable text message sending, partial birth abortion, act-like-you're-a-freshman-at-a-state-school drunk.

It's been so long since I've been to that place and god do I miss it. Please don't get me wrong, it's not like I have a new found sense of maturity and I'm past the getting "wasted" phase, unlike the rest of you plebes. Because I'm not. It's just that my drinking career is stuck in a major rut. So is my sex life for that matter. I think the two might be related.

You see, whereas most people start drinking and go through their sloppy-drunk phase in college and hit the brakes a little after graduation, I did the reverse (see Figure 1.) I started drinking freshman year of high school and drank responsibly all the way through college (for the most part.) Then I graduated and was immediately slapped in the face by the cold-bitch-lover that is being a post-college 20-something. I decided the best way to deal with that pain was to drink. Heavily. Like an Amish kid exiled from his community. But that all changed when I moved home and got mono last summer. Even after I recovered I couldn't drink because my liver was still hobbling around on crutches at half-speed feeling sorry for itself. Not to mention the fact that I lived at home with my parents (talk about your cock blocks.) Now I'm living in the city in a studio apartment to myself, a mere stumble away from all the bars and bros I could want, but I'm too lazy to take advantage of it.

Figure 1.


But I stand firm that this weekend I will have no more! No more shall I remember what happened last night, how I got home and where my credit card is! No more will I get my period and feel inconvenienced instead of relieved! No more will I walk by a bar and think "Oh I should go back there for brunch, I bet they do a good bagel and lox," instead of going in that night. Because New Orleans, Atlantic City, mono and society's standards on decency and age be damned! I'm getting wasted this weekend! I'm playing the Drinking to Get Drunk Drinking Game!


Use your flask and/or whatever drink is in your hand while you're out this weekend to play.
Rules:
Drink when:
- You change your outfit while getting ready
- You ask someone how you look
- You compliment somebody else on how they look
- Anyone says "pregame"
- Someone says the name of a bar
- You catch a cab
- An ATM trip is made
- Someone asks to see your ID
- You show someone your ID
- You order a drink
- You tip someone
- You introduce yourself
- You ask someone what they do for a living
- You tell someone what you do for a living
- A Journey song comes on
- Someone says "I love this song!"
- You think "what an asshole"
- You asess how drunk you are
- Someone complains that there are no hot people at this bar
- Someone complains about the music
- Someone complains that it's too crowded
- Someone complains that it's dead
- Someone complains that it's too hot
- Someone suggests you move on to another bar
- You see someone you've hooked up with before
- You hit on someone
- You meet their girlfriend/boyfriend
- You regret leaving the other bar
- You take a shot
- You see two people making out and act disgusted when you're really jealous
- Someone buys you a drink
- You re-asess how drunk you are
- You settle with who you're talking to/flirting with
- You decide you're not drunk/desperate enough to go home with them
- You make out
- You give someone your number
- Someone gives you their number
- You get Jumbo Slice and promise yourself you'll go to the gym tomorrow
- You get the spins
- Someone holds another person up
- Someone pukes (bonus sip if it's in the street or in a cab!)
- You get kicked out of anywhere
- Someone in your group goes missing
- You finally get a cab home
- You recap the night with your friends
- You have sex...? Does that still happen to people? Is it even still called "sex" or is there some cool new street name for it? Flarbbing? Is it called flarbbing you guys? Am I typing my inner-monologue again?

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend!