Nutty and the Russians.

Now that I’ve finally wrapped up the devious ditching of my maidenhead, it’s time to move on to another reader-suggested subject: booze.

Which is perfect, because writing about myself having sex for the first time was weird and I could use a drink.

Wrote Christopher of Freethinkers Anonymous, “Since Gina stole my sex idea and since you suggested drinking enough rum to kill Captain Jack Sparrow (which would be all of it) I’m going to ask about the first time you got drunk. Hopefully that won’t overlap with anything to do with sex. Or maybe if it did it was a good thing. Anyway I’m hoping it was a good experience, or at least a funny one.”

Well now, let’s see.

✘  Sex – nope.
✓  Good experience – yep.
  Funny experience – well…I thought (and still think) it was hilarious. Certain owners of a certain apartment building might have had a differing opinion. But we’ll get to that.

Here, hold my beer.

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Sunday Sing-along

I had so much fun with Friday’s 12 Days of Nutmas that I’ve decided to go ahead and ruin a few more of your favorite Christmas songs before the big day arrives. So get out your pitch pipes and corkscrews, because today we’re singing…

Let Wine Flow

Oh the weather outside is shitty
‘Cause it’s raining in the city
So crack open the Bordeaux
Let wine flow! Let wine flow! Let wine flow!

Though your family’s being awful
And you’re thinking things unlawful
Before you go striking blows
Let wine flow! Let wine flow! Let wine flow!

If we happen to sober up
How we’ll fester with anger and bile
But with booze brimming in our cups
We’ll take it all with a smile!

And later we’ll slip a fiver
To the designated driver
And we’ll sing in a drunken glow:
“Let it go! Let it go! Can’t hold it back anymo-” “HEY! Can it, Elsa. I thought I told you guys no more goddamn Frozen songs in my car.” “Sorry.”

The hangover never bothered me anyway.

To getting married and shit!

So my friend is getting married next weekend, and the bachelorette party was Saturday. I was a bit worried about going since I’ve been on the thyroid roller coaster from hell recently, but I figured even if my stupid thyroid didn’t behave itself, it was a long weekend and I’d have two full days to recover. So I went, and by some miracle my body decided to be nice to me for once, quite possibly because I was plying it with booze, and I’m glad because I would have missed an amazing shindig otherwise. We ate delicious Mexican food, we drank our weight in alcohol through penis-shaped straws (which I understand are now mandatory at all modern stagettes), and we danced until our feet cried out for mercy.

And any and all conversation remained firmly planted in the gutter, where it belonged.

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