S.H.I.T. ...

So Happy Its Thursday!

Here's a collection of random thoughts (read between the lines, I'm too hungover to manage anything more cohesive).

My favorite Wednesday night watering hole was crowded last night. That's the first and hopefully last, time I've ever seen it so full. Those of us that arrived early and made the mistake of grabbing a few extra chairs for the late arrivals, spent entirely too much time and energy defending those empty seats. Some at my table blamed me for the crowd stating that I had talked about said bar too many times here on pop-o-matic. While I'd love (and plan) to think that I had that sort of influence, the fact remains that it was too crowded.

Dear Painfully Loud Woman On the Train This Morning,
No one, including the poor sap you were riding with, wants to hear you gabbing about your job with a literary agent. If you had taken the time to dislodge your head from your own ass, you would have noticed the gradual and consistent tide of people retreating from your general vicinity.


Dear Person With Horrible Gas On the Train This Morning,
I'd like to assume you were the same person as I mentioned above but that's only because I hat the person mentioned above. Please, for the sake of everyone else forced to share a commute with you, get yourself to a doctor and have that problem looked into. It was apparent to most, but you I guess, that something is not right with your innards.


Dear Me,
Finishing all the floater limoncellos on the table is not a good idea. You had one of your own and should have left it at that.

Blog Writers Of The World Unite And Take Over

Most people assume that the life of a blogger is a glamorous existence of premiers, parties and beautiful people. And you know what? Its true! Last night at my first Blogger Summit (that just sounds so much better than happy hour, plus now I'm sure I can use my bar tab as a tax deduction) I got to put faces to my favorite blogs. I then proceeded to drink so much that I forgot what those faces look like. So Midwesterner, you can keep writing "This Is Not Me" and I will be just as duped as everyone who has never actually seen you.

I'd like to say the following to everyone who was there last night:

I hope you had as much fun as I did.

When are we doing it again?

What was the deal with the waitresses shushing us?

If I said anything to offend you in the hour leading up to my departure you can rest assured that I don't remember saying it and lets just leave it at that.

Three Cheers!

Since the first humans left the trees and their monkey ancestors (sorry creationists but pull your heads out of your asses) they have enjoyed a good stiff drink. Cromagnum people were the first to discover the enticing delights of poppy juice and the Egyptians were notorious for their month-long beer parties. The ancient Greeks and then Romans worshiped wine with Bacchanalian feasts (now there is a religion I can get behind). Even through the dark ages, when people were dropping like flies thanks to the plague, wine, beer and mead were staples of every mans diet. Columbus added "new vineyards" to his list of reasons why the Queen should finance his cruise and although our history books may credit Lewis and Clark for their adventure you can bet those two men would thank whisky for getting them through. The popularity of a good drink has only risen in modern times despite the puritan zealots who invaded our government in the 20th century and had alcohol outlawed.

Alcohol is the great unifier giving men, women, and children of all races, nationalities, religions, sexual orientations, and political backgrounds something in common (except for the crazy religions that think drinking is a sin but who really wants anything in common with those nuts?).

Where would we be today without booze? Living in a dull and dreary world that's where. Many of our most famous works of art from paintings to theatrical productions would never have been created were it not for the alcohol infused visions of the masters. When looking at the current crop of crap infesting Broadway I can say without doubt that the problem is lack of drunken creativity. Stop letting Disney and bankers create musicals and give them back to the alcoholic playwrights and drama queens who know what they are doing.

So I say that the next time you belly up to the bar, raise a glass and give a cheer to alcohol! Now would someone please pass me some aspirin because my head is throbbing from all the vodka I drank last night.

It Must Be Friday For Me To Feel This Bad

One of those old rat-pack crooners, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin or maybe Shirley McClain, once said that they feel sorry for anyone that doesn't wake up with a hangover because that's the best they can expect to feel all day. I can't think of a clever way to tie that into this post but those are words I like to think about on hungover mornings such as this one.

As if the throbbing headache, physical and mental exhaustion weren't reason enough to stay in bed this morning, I should have instantly returned there when I switched on the teli and was greeted by this dire prediction.

Of course, I didn't bother to turn up the volume or even keep that channel on because I figured, if we really were on the eve of Armageddon they probably wouldn't have the
weather lady covering the story.

There are a lot of people I have to thank for today's hangover, starting with the inventors of vodka. Only a gifted genius could figure out how to get drunk off a potato. Next, the brewers of that beer I was drinking after responsibly deciding that I had had enough vodka. I still don't remember your name beer but it had something to do with a tiger. Of course none of the drinks would have been served (except for the ones I had at home before and after going out) without the help of the ridiculously unpleasant lady tending bar at Barcade last night. Lighten up sweetie, you'll never catch a man with that sour puss. Many thanks go out to Adam, Kelly, Cyndi and Seth. Guys, if it weren't for you I would have been drinking alone.* And finally, my deepest thanks to Seth's mom. If she hadn't given birth to baby Seth on April 18th, none of us would have had such a great excuse for getting drunk on a Wednesday.

In parting, I'd like to accept this hangover on behalf of the Gowanus whale. Your camporing and cavorting won New York's hart but ultimately, New York's shit would stop yours from beating.

Gowanus whale, April 17 - April 19, 2007. R.I.P.



*Not that there is anything wrong with drinking alone.