So tonight I went to an open house for a local spa/salon which sounds really fancy but in reality was just kind of awkward.  At least it WAS until the BFF and I found the wine. Then it was just awkward for the other people around us.  Ask Lotus.  She was there.  I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you what jackasses we were.  She was a little late getting there so I don’t think she realized at first that we were each at least 2 ½ glasses in.  I think her first clue was probably during that presentation on eye lift cream when the dude put a drop of the stuff on my finger to try out and told me to “marry” my fingers before applying so I proceeded to have each one say “I do” and then kiss each other.  That *might* have given me away as a drunk asshole.  I don’t know.  And then when he showed us a particularly fucked up set of “before” and “after” photos and the BFF was all “Well PLAYED, Kenneth,” even though his name was Nathan — I think that might have revealed HER to be a drunk asshole.  I don’t know.  Being on the other side of it, I really couldn’t say.

Either way, we didn’t feel awkward at all by that point.

Lotus might have, though.

And I’m pretty sure Kenneth did.

Did I mention that I wrote down the address of my blog for Nathan?  I really don’t know why I did that.  Hi, Nathan.

I’d also like to say to the Marketing Department of the spa/salon:  You *might* want to tell the weird ladies who’ve had WAY too much plastic/collagen/Botox injected in their faces to stay home on Open House Night.  Their presence did NOT make me want to explore the Wonderful World of Ridiculously Expensive Beauty Procedures and Products.  It just freaked me the FUCK OUT.

For future reference, these are some of the people you should NOT invite to your beauty spa/salon’s next open house:

And by the way, Marketing Department, whoever came up with the name “chemical peel” should be fired.  Because “chemical peel” sounds just awful.  Like being flayed alive or something.  With chemicals.  So no, I don’t WANT my face to be “chemically peeled,” thanks.  I WOULD, however, like to have it “prettified.”   Do you have a “chemical prettifier”?  I mean, something other than what other people like to call “Photoshop”?  If you do, I’m totally IN.  You don’t even need Kenneth’s train-wreck-before and underwear-model-after pictures.  You can just go ahead and sign me up and I’ll be there.

Except – WHA–?  FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS?!?!?  Fuck YOU, Nathan!  Fuck you!  Just fuck you!

Lotus is so cute.  Have I mentioned that?  She’s young and sweet and cute and really, if she says anything else about having wrinkles I’m going to grab her cheeks and stretch them out as far as I can and then let go and see if they spring back into place or just sag.

Now would probably be a good time to mention that we went out for “dinner” afterwards, and by “dinner” I mean “a bunch of Mexican martinis and appetizers which were really just there as a drink beard.”  And I just got home a little while ago and the room is kind of spinning.  And I really want to get a unicorn drunk and see what happens.  And I’m kind of confused (1) about the proper use of the term “beard” and (2) just in general.

What I’m trying to say is, this would be a really horrible time for me to watch the latest episode of LOST.

So anyway, we did this spa thing and did I tell you that I totally suckered the BFF and Lotus into going because if they’d had something done there I would get a $25 credit to my account for each of them?  Oh, I didn’t mention that?  Yeah, I didn’t mention it to them either, until they were already there.  But then when they finally got wise I was all “Look! FREE WINE!” and now we’re just kind of back at the beginning of the story.

I’m sorry.  I’m telling this all wrong.  When I drink my timeline gets all fucked up.  On second thought, now might be the PERFECT time to watch LOST.

It just occurred to me that I’m probably not going to feel very good tomorrow.

So skipping back to the end of the story, we’re at “dinner” when the BFF gets this random phone call and it turns out they did door prizes at this salon thing and SHE WON A BUNCH OF BOTOX, which is completely LAME because (1) she didn’t even want to GO to this open house and (B) I CLEARLY deserve to have poison injected into my face more than she does and (iii) I don’t think I even get a $25 credit for that.

Oh, and this really doesn’t have anything to do with anything but a quick note to the “friend” who’s always conveniently “busy” when I call, then you say you’ll call back but never do:  You’re an asshole.  You suck and I’m awesome and if you HAD called me back today like you said you would, we would have had a really magical conversation and you would have learned amazing things like the fact that lobsters urinate when other lobsters act aggressively toward them and also this week’s winning lottery numbers.  But now you’ll never know those things, or any of the other wonderful things I could have shared with you, because you never called me back.  Oh, also — fuck off.

Lordy, my head is spinning.  And I just had a five-minute conversation with myself about how pink is really just the poor man’s purple.  I was incredibly convincing.

I think I probably forgot to mention that I bought $80 worth of shit for my face that probably isn’t going to work.  Don’t tell the Big Bean.  It’ll be our little secret, Internet.  Just between you and me.  K?

Now I’m sleepy.  And my head is hot.  Like, hotter than the rest of my body.  I’d really like to turn the air conditioner down a few degrees, but there’s no “head-only” setting.

OMG there’s my million-dollar invention idea!  Totally adding “head-only air conditioning” to my list.  So far I’ve also got the “Ice Net” for catching those errant cubes that ALWAYS fall when I get ice from the freezer and the “Front Only Dryer Cage,” which will be a special compartment of the dryer where you can put the stuff you want the most without having to search for it.  That particular gem came to me when I realized that my dryer is magic and not only senses the things that I want the most but also makes SURE those things are ALWAYS in the back, at the bottom.  Always.  Always.

I love Lotus. And the BFF.  I have no idea what just happened on LOST.  And I bet I dream about drunk unicorns tonight.

Oh, well.  Fuck it.


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18 Responses to “Drunk Blogging is the New Drunk Dialing But More Awesome Because It’s on the Internet”

  1. So glad I decided not to get drunk at OK Go last night. It would have ended badly, and then I would have had to blog about it, and that would be bad.

    But enough about me. Can I have your bff’s botox credits?

  2. this was hilarious. and also: lotus is an amazing photographer.

    a bunch of free botox? can’t wait to see what expression she chooses to freeze her face in. way. cool.

  3. I love Lotus. She’s quite amazing and you, you make me giggle.

    :) Botox scares me

  4. After reading this I concluded that I love you. I’ve loved Lotus from afar for awhile now, but now it’s all about you. It’s probably a good thing I live far away from you (wherever that is) because I’d be calling to hang out all the time and you’d be all “fuck off” and I’d get drunk and cry. Oh wait, that was yesterday with the neighbour. Never mind.

  5. Was it bad that I wasn’t really drunk yet, but when Kenneth, er, Nathan asked what our lifestyle is like as per things that affect your skin, I said, “I don’t smoke, my diet is good, I use SPF, but I DRINK LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!”

    Personally, I felt it was charming.

    I’m still pissed off that he lied to me about his age. I should have snatched off that one lady’s lips and slapped him with them.

  6. How does one gain the skill of typing drunk and not completely bollocking up every third word? I bow at your feet. And my fellow carpoolers all think I’m a lil bit nuts because I was reading your post and snorking, loudly.

  7. Loved this one! Thanks for the laughs; tweeted. ;)

  8. They give BOTOX as a DOORPRIZE? Sheesh. Whatever happened to a bottle of wine and a fruit basket? And I’m sorry, anyone who asks you to ‘marry’ your fingers deserves whatever he gets.

  9. Lotus, be careful. Be very, very careful. I’ve known the beej and her BFF for a loooong time so be very, very careful.

  10. Unicorns are a partying bunch. That’s why they missed getting on the ark. God became angry and invented bad plastic surgery. See how it all makes sense?

  11. And that’s why my blog is Merlot and the internet…sometimes I drink my dinner…Oh, enough about me, you seem to have had fun. I think it’d be fun to get smashed and do something like that…but my wife doesn’t get drunk at the same time and never sees the things I do in quite the same light…weird.

  12. It’s the botox door prizes that produce the stretched attendees who should just stay home and stop winning free botox. At least, that’s what I’m guessing…

  13. Mexican martinis!!!!! And botox.

    I could work under these conditions.

  14. Winning botox as a prize would freak me right out. Are they trying to prettify me or kill me? The hell?

    Also, this post made me realize that it’s been so long since I drank in any quantity that I don’t actually remember what being drunk feels like.

  15. I agree – chemical peel automatically makes me think of being flayed. Which I think was a form of torturous death featured in some book I read recently.

    I am impressed with your post. When I try to drunk-type, my fingers don’t really work all that well. It pisses me off because normally I type super-fast.

    When you emerge from the other side of your hangover, you’ve got to tell me what a Mexican Margarita is because that sounds yuuuummmm.

  16. Oh shit. Why aren’t you a famous stand-up comedian (it bugs me when people say comedienne) yet?

    And? “Ice Net” and “Front Only Dryer Cage” are for sure the most brilliant non-invented inventions ever.

  17. Did someone say ice net? Where? Where can I get one? If you say Ikea, well, I’m fucked. The closest Ikea to me is…well, I might as well just go to Sweden!

  18. You’ve been quoted!

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