So, like, i might be just a little wee bit intoxicated. Nothing to worry about, i assure you. It all started with our pollyanna dinner, where i unexpectedly scored the White Stripes album that’s been topping critic’s polls and Dance Hall at Louse Point, which i’ve neglected to buy for quite some time now. By the time of gift-unwrapping i had only imbibed a glass or two of wine, and so i made a trip to the kitchen to ask Ross to upgrade my liquor intake a bit.
That’s where the downward spiral began. About two hours (and four double-strength mixed drinks later) i’m el-trasho.
The road to el-trasho began innocently enough with orange juice, peach schnapps, and orange Grey Goose vodka, but soon thereafter it seemed to involve several of my friends circling the room in clown-sized bicycles and someone starting a huge fight with a large loaf of french bread. A drink later and i was playing power air-chords to Dookie, swinging around a riding crop in the air, and dueting with Kate on vocals. The next drink (a “bullfrog”) found me MC-ing tracks 1 & 3 from The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill in spectacular fashion. Then there was a lot of club music (the dance moves during which may have earned me a death threat from Lindsay). And, then, just when they thought they were safe, i found a copy of The Immaculate Collection.
Let’s just say i still remember all of the choreography to “Vogue.”
Ross was terrified. Kate was stunned. Lindsay was sure i was gay. I was breathless.
After that i might have climbed up the bars on the front window, but the important thing is that i made it home in a coherent state and managed to log on to the internet. Rock on.