The Drunken Blog

I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer.  At least, my mom has always wanted me to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or an astronaut, or the President.  I guess that’s what mom’s do, hope that their children take up amazing professions and make lots of money so that the parents will be taken care of in their old age.  Well, I considered being a lawyer, I even took the LSAT, which is the admittance test for law school.

The LSAT, as it tends to do, didn’t even have the common decency to lube up before it had its way with me.  It was not a pleasant experience.  And yet, I’m still considering going into law school, and I have several friends who agree with that notion.  It would fit in well with my current career, but of course, it’s expensive and takes a lot of time.

And why bother going to law school when you can sue somebody without going?  You just have to make sure you sue somebody for less than $5000, which is what I’m doing.

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Have you ever heard a phrase, most likely carelessly juxtaposed, and thought, “that needs to be the title for something – I don’t know what; I don’t know why, but it must be.” A quick Google search tells me that apparently I am unique in this thought.

One would think in the seemingly infinite amount of Simpson’s episodes that Homer would have inexplicably muttered the phrase, though I imagine that “sex”, for the sake of appeasement, would have been replaced with “Mmm” (my book antiqua font doesn’t do the word justice, but pretend it is moaned in a sexy woman’s voice) and French toast with “beer” and you’ll see that, in fact, Homer has been saying this phrase for year – they just haven’t named any episodes after it.
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[update: the picture wasn’t showing in IE for some reason, I have obviously fixed it, but sorry for any confusion.]

I work in one of the main buildings for a rather large consulting firm. We don’t have the entire building, but we do have our name on the outside of it, which means that we pay the most rent and have the majority of the building. There are 18 floors and I work on the fifth.

Now, I mentioned that I work for a consulting firm, but just like any other consulting firm, they do other things as well. But the fact that we are mainly consultants makes for a certain work environment. Most of the people working here are young professionals, recently graduated from college and pretty bright. The problem is, all of these cats work on the client site as opposed to the home office. That means that all of the kids my age don’t actually work in my building, for the most part.

The people that work in my building are generally accountants, HR, senior executives, etc. Basically an older crowd; a crowd you would expect to be more professional than the young guns going out getting plastered every night and crawling their way into work the next day. The people that you see around the office are pretty much the stereotypical people you would expect to see when you think of “the business world”.

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Recently I’ve been playing Scrabble on Facebook. It’s a great way to pass the time when I’m bored at work. I don’t exactly have the giganticist vocabulary, but one of the things I’ve found out is that there are a lot of words out there that I didn’t realize were words until I tried to make them work playing scrabble.

For instance, I was about to play the word “HOUR.” Since the H was on a triple letter score I would have gotten 15 points for the word. But directly following the R was a double word score. All I had to do was add on an S and I would have 32 points instead of 15. But I didn’t have an S, all I had was a bunch of I’s. So, blindly I added an I to the end of HOUR to make the word HOURI.

HOURI is a real word. I didn’t realize it was a real word until Scrabble told me it was. I guessed that it was pronounced “HOUR-EE,” like the word hour plus the letter E. I then went and looked up the definition of the word because I knew the person I was playing against would try to call me out.

It turns out if you are Muslim and you go on a suicide bombing run, each of your 72 virgins is called a houri. The alternate definition is “a voluptuous and alluring woman.”

After reading the definition of the word, my pronunciation instantly changed to “WHORE-EE,” it’s amazing what a little context will do to your vocabulary.

I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine the other day via IM. He recently became involved with a girl he met via myspace, a very attractive girl. Now, I’ve never even considered using myspace to meet girls. I’m too jaded from all of those fake friend requests I get from girls that try to get me to go to their nude pay-websites.

It’s easy for me to sort out the riff-raff because I’m a guy, and hot girls typically don’t have to go out looking for guys, the guys find them, so if a hot girl does try to friend me, chances are they just want me to pay to go to their website. Attractive girls, on the other hand, have their hands full with filtering out the shady guys.

Trying to set yourself apart from the crowd is not an easy thing to do. How do you make that cute girl respond to your message as she is deleting everybody else’s

What do you say to a girl you want to meet?

This is what my conversation was about with my friend. His response was simply to say, “Hey, what’s up?” that, however, seems to be way too easy, so I took it upon myself to figure out the ultimate pickup line for girls on social networking sites.

After much time, thought, deliberation, and research, the line I discovered is:
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This weekend was my little sister’s high school graduation; she went to the same school that my older sister and I went to. My older sister, who lives in the Keys came up to visit me in DC on Thursday, we were going to drive down on Friday for the ceremony on Saturday.

I worked all day Thursday and I got home only to discover that my sister’s flight had been delayed. This was not such a bad thing it gave me more time to clean up my place. However, I didn’t get it as clean as I wanted to because we had company. And of course when company comes over, we have to drink. We made plans to go out after I picked up Sara from the airport, I would bring a 2 liter bottle of soda and a flask of rum and we would meet my friends out.

I picked up Sara from the airport and we went over to a friend’s house to pregame some more before we went out. Sara did not drink any of the rum; it made me cry a little on the inside. When we got to my friend’s house, Jeff was already there so we all continued to drink. Eventually we made it to Ned Devine’s, aka, Ned’s, aka Not-Ned’s, aka Auld Shebeen.

By this point I am drunk, but not wasted, although you wouldn’t be able to tell by my demeanor. You see, there was another X-Factor involved tonight – I had just got offered that new job. Yup, it was going to be one of those types of nights.

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I don’t have anything to say about this.

According to Dictionary.com, the word “flabbergasted” is defined “as if dumbstruck with astonishment and surprise.” This hilarious definition is exactly how I feel at the moment. The reason is the release of Paris Hilton from jail after just three days confinement. Ok, I know what you’re thinking. “C’mon, it was obvious she was going to get out early for some stupid reason or another.”

You’re right. We all knew it would happen. It’s not the fact that she’s been released or even the period of time she actually spent in the big house. What has me “dumbstruck with astonishment and surprise” is the purported reason she was released early. The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department said “medical considerations” were the reason she was released and placed on house arrest. However, it’s been reported that the “medical considerations” were that the heiress refused to eat the prison food. (more…)

Your face is like a tire -
I put chains on it to drive in the snow,
But I live in Florida.

Your face is like a booger -
I picked it from my nose,
and I ate it.

Your face is like a candy bar –
I left it in the car,
And it melted all over my seats.

Oh how I love your face.

Your face.

Sara, 6.1.07