Beer Blog: See the world through the eyes of a drunk

Now, I know it's generally seen as bad taste to discuss alcoholism in a blog, especially when relating the events of a party. I should know, I pioneered the 'don't tell' blogging method. And it makes sense. You start off talking about your level of drunkeness, then progress onto an esoteric ramble about something exciting that happened yesterday in maths lesson, and before long you're alone and unloved, sitting in a pool of your own urine writing a 5000 word essay about the crap you just took. Then Channel 4 film you and give you your own reality TV show.

Normally, I wouldn't blog about drunkeness.

This having been made clear, I only have one thing to say, and I will do so in bold. Man, I was totally freakin' wasted at Mario's house last night!

I know, I know, I should be ashamed of myself. But, come on, I had a good reason. National School's regatta, the boatie race that I'd spent most of the term training hard (and not drinking at all) had been cancelled at THE VERY LAST MOMENT. I mean, shit, there goes a year's worth of training. Sometimes I think God is testing me, for the time when I take his place. But... anyway. I was drowning my sorrows. With Budweiser: KING OF BEERS. I'm not going to give you the blow by blow account (basically, 3 solid hours of constant pouring of Budweiser: KING OF BEERS down throat, and nobody really wants to read that), but instead, here's a description of how the world looks when you're me and you're hammered:

1: Basically, the main problem is that you lose your sense of balance. That's it. I'm a boatie, right? I didn't have much balance when I'm sober. But I have to say, I'm still a damn sight smarter drunk than most of the females in the room are when they're sober. I could have pretty easily answered ANY GCSE question, and amazingly I recited the quadratic formula, flawlessly, while standing on one foot. Now if that's not fully in control of my brain I don't know what is. Well, I guess the ability to not throw up would be a plus, but you can't have everything, can you? No.

2: The fact that you're fully aware of everything going on means that everyone else seems like a bunch of patronising gits. Just because I'm (hilariously) under the influence (of Budweiser: KING OF BEERS) doesn't mean that I'm not fully aware of you acting like my mother, Mr "come on Tom just sit down SIT DOWN" Younis. And Pete's girlfriend... no matter how drunk I am, and no matter how much dried vomit (apparently somebody threw up on me. In fact, it might have been me. In fact, it was, but shh) there is on my trousers, I'm not going to let you take the buggers off me. Sheesh.

3: Everything seems like a good idea. Hiding all the plates of party snacks? Yep. Throwing bottles (that had previously contained Budweiser: KING OF BEERS) in the pool? Yep. The plate, I admit, was probably not a good idea, but hey, it didn' break. And I didn't throw the damn chairs in the pool, stop saying it was me.
Everything also makes sense at the time.

4: Everything seems hilarious. But a lot of the stuff WAS hilarious. Like that wall of pictures in Mario's corridor. Now I like Mario's parents (from what I've seen of them, they're lovely), but they do have a few flaws. Firstly, a lack of imagination when it comes to names (naming their children Marios and Maria, and the dog Mercedes. Who names a dog Mercedes? I don't like that dog, it tried to bite me), and secondly, a rather cruel, yet HILARIOUS, sense of humour. Basically, Mario was -how shall I put this?- a bit of a tub when young, and his folks decided rather cruelly to dress him up in a load of silly costumes and photograph him. Then stick the photos on the wall.

Honestly.

I particulary liked one CHARMING shot of him in purple spandex bodysuit dealie with a little gold waistcoat and a bow tie. Abi even took a photo of it with her camera and sent it to everyone, but for Mario's sake, I refuse to stick it up here.

5: You only remember the good stuff. Which is a good thing, because I can then just say that everyone was making up the bad stuff. Ah, denial, the cornerstone of my moral fabric. Where would I be without you? Probably in a pool of my own urine, typing up a 5000 word essay on the crap I just took. Probably.

6: And most importantly, you can be assured that you will wake up the next morning after 5 hours of sleep totally none the worse for wear. Yes, the drunkest I have ever been in my life, AND NO HANGOVER. Take that, you fuckin' Budweiser: KING OF BEERS. King of Beers my ass.

So, yeah, I think that was a good party, Mario. Well, you never know.

I just changed my mind. Sorry, but LIFE IS TOO SHORT.



What else can you say, really?