Well, I'm pretty drunk right now, but Mark said to update my &%$#@ blog. So here it is.
I'm kind of a cheap date. It doesn't take me much to get drunk. The real problem is I have to retype a lot more words. Dang it. I know you don't see that now, but that's because of that retyping thing.
I had to retype thing, too.
I had never been drunk before 2005. Actually, I'd never even had a drink before I was 34. I still don't drink at home just to drink. We'll have wine when we have guests over. I don't keep cheap drinking wine. I literally have only six bottles... no, seven, but I don't count the bottle of chardonnay, because I don't like white wines. I have six bottles. All of them... no five of them were gifts. None of them is worth any less than $45, though the most valuable bottle is worth only about $130. Doesn't matter. It will take me ages to find enough events in our home with enough wine drinking guests to make it worth popping one of those puppies. I'm not a complete cheapo (had to retype the word complete twice... I'm not doing too bad) but I'm not going to open that bottle if the imbibers at the table don't have the fortitude to finish that $100 mother off. No way. They can drink Coke Zero and go home at 9:15 so I can catch up on Forensic Files episodes (holy crap, you should've seen how long it took me to get "episodes" right... both times.)
No, I really only get smashed when I'm with my bosses at functions, because as whoopied as I get, these dudes can really get crushed. It takes them a little longer, but even though they're nice drunks, they can find a way right down to belligerent if they're so inclined. Tonight they were good, though. They had to drive.
I called home before my last couple of glasses, because I don't mind if she knows I'm tipped over. In fact, I want her to know exactly what I do when I'm away. Honesty is important, even when it's not good. No, I called then so that she could still understand me.
Gawd, what was I talking about again?