Alcohol

My good friend Angela wrote this 2 years ago... it's a great blog, so here it goes...

Dear Alcohol,

First & foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. My friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around in the holiday's hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings.

However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions.

While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences:

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity takes place after 2 a.m. Why would you make me call those ex-boyfriends/girlfriends when I know for a fact they do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night?

2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal, but why do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce, along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips (washed down with WINE & topped off with a Kit Kat after a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries)? I'm an eclectic eater, but I think you went too far this time.

3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.

4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop. This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order, but the 3pm hangover immobility is completely unacceptable! My entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to sleep/passing out face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be minimal & in no way interfere with my daily activities.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now & would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I! ask that you carefully review my grievances above & address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible solutions & hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.

Thank you,

Your biggest fan

P.S. THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. British Constitution
3. Passive-aggressive disorder

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
2. Nope, no more beer for me.
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
5. Oh, I couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.

The Funniest Thing I Ever Did See

The Funniest Thing I Ever Did See
Category: Life

Now, I apologise if I have told you this before, but I absolutely love this story, and my friend Alice reminded me of it today.

About three years ago, I had just started Cabbie-ing, and I was driving down the high street at midday. The roads were chock-a-block with cars taking people away from the torrential downpour in our little town centre.

I was waiting for the traffic lights to change again, so far in the previous 10 minutes I had moved just one car length, so as my mind started to wander onto other things I noticed an elderly couple standing under an umberella by the bus stop. I say bus stop as there was no shelter, which on this particular day was very unfortunate.

She was a short lady, and clearly in charge, but things had not gone her way this afternoon, as the small umberella she was holding had turned inside out in the gusty wind. She hung onto it regardless taking whatever cover she could from the torrent of water cascading from the angry grey skies.

He was much taller than she was, and looked uncomfortable in his smart clothes, an although he wore a small flat cap and a raincoat, he was still bent over backwards trying to get his head under the low umbrella.

Now its important to tell you that It really was very rainy that day. Very rainy indeed.

And the umbrella was the wrong way round.

Collecting Rain.

Getting Heavy.

Getting very heavy.

And then...... all of a sudden... it wasnt!

The old man leapt in the air as the entire pool of collected rainwater poured down his back.

I am so sorry, but I laughed so hard i nearly crashed the car.