Up until two months ago, I was drinking, on average, a bottle of wine a night. I don’t know if that makes me an alcoholic. I wasn’t going out and getting blotto at bars; I was coming home from work, pouring myself glass after glass while I did responsible adults things, like laundry, cooking dinner, watching “Scandal,” scowling at OK Cupid messages, and getting ahead on work tasks. I wasn’t sending inadvisable drunk texts, maybe because I wasn’t even drunk — my tolerance was that high. But I was doing it night after night, all the while thinking, I should probably take it down a notch. Drink less. I’ll start tomorrow. Keep reading »
There’s nothing I enjoy more when I’m drunk than stopping by McDonald’s on the way home — the only time I go to Mickey D’s, by the way — and getting myself some chicken nuggets. Something about the greasiness and chickenness and saltiness just hits the drunken spot!
But it turns out I’m doing drunk-snacks all wrong. Keep reading »
Thanksgiving is so much better when day drinking is involved. A few cocktails in, and suddenly you and your estranged brother are back in bonding mode, you’re brushing off your aunt’s annoying questions, and all your mom’s passive aggressive comments sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher gibberish. Awesome. Whether you choose a light champagne cocktail for your Thanksgiving pregame, or just throw all calorie-counting caution to the wind and opt for homemade eggnog or maple white Russians, we’ve got you covered. Click through for 10 delicious libations to get you through Thanksgiving!
Ladies and gentlemen, behold the world’s first champagne vending machine, which has been unveiled at Selfridge’s department store in London. The shiny dream machine uses a golden robotic arm to gently dispense jewel-encrusted mini bottles of Moet & Chandon champagne for $30 a pop, and I want one of these in my house RIGHT NOW. I know what you’re thinking: But Winona, couldn’t you just fill your fridge with champagne and call it a champagne vending machine? Well… that’s an excellent point. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go buy 100 mini bottles of champagne, some jewels, and a hot glue gun. Cheers! [Daily Mail]
Drunk people are annoying — so annoying, in fact, that a Brooklyn bar is raising their drinking age on weekends to keep the youngest annoying drunks away. Neighbors have been complaining about bar patrons from Phil’s Crummy Corner leaving empties in their planters and screaming in the streets until 4 a.m. So now the joint will no longer admit drinkers younger than 25 after 10 p.m. on Friday and Saturday nights, a plan they referred to as becoming a “quiet family place” (instead of a combination sports bar/Latin American restaurant, which is what Yelp calls it). Phil’s Crummy Corner is even hiring a bouncer to keep those young’uns out, too. Noisy assholes will have to find someplace else to drink … just stay out of Queens, please. [DNAinfo New York] [Image of drunk people via Shutterstock]
It’s 3:30. The afternoon is draaaaagggggiiinnnggg. Your coworker won’t stop clearing his throat. If you look at one more spreadsheet, your eyes will fall out of your head. There’s a bar down the street with 2-for-1 Coronas calling your name, but you need a rock solid excuse for cutting out early. That’s where the “Happy Hour Virus” comes in. Just go to the Happy Hour Virus website, choose a type of broken computer screen to simulate (choices include “kernel panic,” “broken monitor,” and “blue screen of death”), and voila: your computer will instantly “break,” allowing you to throw your hands up in exasperation, pack up you stuff, and head to happy hour. When you come back to work the next day, just hit the escape key to “fix” your computer and resume working — at least, until the next happy hour. [On The Media]
Well, this is horrible. Joey Poindexter, a 38-year-old real estate appraiser and beer pong player, allegedly infiltrated the beer pong tournament circuit in Montgomery County, Maryland to stalk his sexual assault victims. And he’s been doing it for the past 10 years. Poindexter was finally arrested after a young man called police to report that he’d met Poindexter at a beer pong tournament, drank a Long Island iced tea Poindexter bought him, and woken up the next morning at Poindexter’s residence with his clothes piled on the floor.
“It’s a horrific sexual assault case,” said Montgomery Assistant Police Chief Russ Hamill. “This is a sexual predator.” Keep reading »
We have all been there. A casual happy hour turns into a dark, drunken blur where one can’t remember how many or what type of alcohol has been consumed. We all pay the price. But no one is more predictable than the Drunk Boyfriend. The men in our lives who behave so uniquely in our daily lives turn into the same man when wasted. The predictability of each stage of a boyfriend’s intoxication is almost comforting. Keep reading »
Men will rape us no matter, apparently! So if won’t don’t want to get sexually assaulted, us ladies have to “give up over drinking [sic].”
This is according to a facepalm-y new column in Southern Methodist University The Daily Campus newspaper by someone named Kirby Wiley. ”In order to prevent future victims, viewers need to know the other side of things,” Wiley writes. The other side of things, in case you’re not picking up what I’m putting down, is that drunk women are deserving of some of the blame here.
Oh hell to the no.
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