Or as we say in English, "In wine, douchebaggery."
Sometimes, while drinking, I say things I come to regret later (or even instantly). And when I examine the situations leading up to saying something I regret, invariably, I find I have only you, my reading public, to blame.
For why were you not at the bar keeping me from drinking? Why did you not nudge me under the table and say "Dude, shut the fuck up."? Indeed, why were you not there?
"Oh," I hear you say, "I have a job and can't watch over you 24/7." "Oh," you whine, "I live across a continent/ocean." "Oh, I only read your blog every month or two."
Feh! That's right, I said "Feh!" You only make excuses because you know, deep in your heart of hearts, that I'm right.
Well, at least I can sleep easy knowing that I was not being an asshole this evening; you were allowing me to be an asshole by your negligence.
You should be ashamed of yourselves.
No Gifts
2 days ago
16 comments:
I hope you were being spectacularly asshole-ish as otherwise I may have to disown you :)
Oh right, I should be ashamed. *Hang head and mutter "But I live an ocean away."*
You don't step on Superman's cape,
You don't spit into the wind,
You don't pull off the mask of the ol' Lone Ranger,
And you don't tell Crash to shut his piehole.
I don't believe in shame. Guilt, however...
Daddy drinks.
Feh.
I'm so ashamed. Can you ever forgive me?
Sorry but i was being too worried about the possibility of a hurricane wiping me off the face of the planet to tell you to shut up. He is just a lil ole tropical depression now , but still .....
Karen, as long as you don't sing like Shakira (whom I affectionately call "that braying donkey"), the boob shaking is permissible.
If you were telling the truth, then by definition it does not make you an asshole. Come on, embrace your inner Anya.
Of course, if you don't know who Anya is, then we have nothing to say to each other.
I would be ashamed but I was probably having sex at that moment and what I did that night was probably more shameful so I'm just gonna say nuthin' and sit here with my Diet Dr. Pepper and giggle....
"Dood, shut the fuck up!!!"
Now if only you can remember that next time BEFORE you get plastered! So let's all hope this kinda schitt will never happen again!!!*
Happy Friday sweetie.
*But it prolly will! :-)
In Jeff's honor:
Anya: It's like we live in Slayer Central. I swear, if Buffy rooms or boards one more of the potential girls, I'm gonna call a health inspector.
Spike: I like my plan better. Get up, get out, get drunk, repeat as needed. It's just more elegant.
--------
Anya: How can I help?
Willow: Uh, distract him from Buffy. Uh, piss him off.
Anya: I don't know how!
Willow: Anya, I have faith in you. There is no one you cannot piss off.
P.S. At least you didn't pull a Mel Gibson!!
--Lee
Jeff, Honey. I sing like Tori Spelling.
Well, I blame YOU for not coming to MY aid. I was the drunk sittin' right beside you!
You're still hammered aren't ya?
Shut the fuck up.
You're welcome.
It's true, the bar has now been lowered. As long as you didn't go on a paranoid Jew-rant and/or call a police officer "sugar tits," you're okay.
Can I still call an officer "Sugar Tits" if he's got really great pecs?
There is a gentle art to being a spectacular @sshole. It's a fine line.
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