Recently Rikki Didi moved to Singapore and I fell into a dark pit of depression. Much like Rose, my Rhode Island counterpart, or Cristina, my biological sibling, Didi is a sister of my soul. So I was confused about what to do with my life and who I was as a person when she left me. After all, we brown bagged a lot of Bushmills together. Not a lot of people can hang wit dat.
But over the past couple of weeks, I’ve collected my shit together and dreams are coming true. Fake gold from head to toe. Old friends, new friends. Nearing real life friendship with Mission Mission. Sunny weather (most of the time). Going out a shit ton and finding my new Kilowatt (Bender’s). Learning important lessons – mostly about IPAs – similar to the lesson I once learned about martinis (how about when I used to blog on LiveJournal). One delicious martini is enough. One Pliny the Elder is enough.
I really can’t remember where I was going with this.
Oh yeah. So first of all, I still have plenty of lessons to learn apparently. For example, my coworker who turned 28 today (Happy Birthday, G-$) said that he is not a fan of people walking up to him with shots without first asking/warning and he will not hesitate to turn them down. So I guess that’s a thing, refusing shots. I’ll get there one day *shrugs*.
Secondly, the other night when I came home krunked from Bender’s I wanted a drunk snack. If I were to choose a drunk snack for myself it would probably be potato chips. Or pizza, clearly. But instead I decided to SHUCK A FUCKING CORN COB. I drunkenly shucked a corn from my fucking veggie co-op, it probably had caterpillars, because that shit always has caterpillars in it and then I boiled that corn cob and ate it. Drunk snack of hippie veg. WHO THE FUCK AM I? I think I’ve reverted back to my poverty-striken roots of chasing bacardi with peanut butter. Oofta. I just hope I start drunkenly laying across my kitchen table again soon.
Tags: beer, bender's, corn cob, corn off the cob, drink, drunk, entertainment, humor, IPA, kilowatt, krunked, martini, mission district, munchies, pizza, potato chips, rikki, San Francisco, snack
Last night new elderly lesson learned: I LEFT A BEER! I created a wounded solider. ME DJ Jazzy Jabber, Blondini & Walter’s boozing roommate. I feel like next thing you know I’ll be turning down shots? No never. I will never say that or think that again.
And I think corn sounds like a healthy alternative to a giant burrito. New lesson learned: snack healthy when drunk eating. I mean we gotta keep our womanly figures, am i right?
New lesson learned last night: shucked corn is better than no corn. I’m fucking hungry.
And wounded soldier is okay. I personally can’t do it yet, but one day. At least I can turn down other people’s wounded soldiers.