Most of you probably won’t listen to an airplane bottle of Maker’s Mark, and I guess if I were a lumbering galoot of a human being, I wouldn’t either. But as I lie here clenched in the sweaty hand of Titty Boo Boo, having just watched my best friend being guzzled by Just Sarah, suddenly my short bottled life has come into sharp focus.

So I’m going to tell you what I think, whether you like it or not. First of all—drinking alcohol as a punishment for “crimes”? Look, I consider beer a distant cousin, at most, the kind that you don’t talk to at family reunions because he’s over in the corner making fart jokes, but that vodka you used in the Bloody Marys is my brother from another mother, as they say. And even some shitty beer didn’t deserve to be downed mindlessly. Show some appreciation.

And my god, drinking out of a shoe? Cool Handjob Luke, you knew what would happen when you got dressed, you knew what would happen when you went up to an RA and pointed it out explicitly, you are just lucky that’s a secret fetish of Do Her Well’s. But that poor beer suffered for your twisted desires—I heard its screams as it bathed in your rank foot odors.

You assholes will put anything in your mouths, won’t you? Was it really necessary to slaughter a pig for the bacon, Curtains Match The Drapes? You could have probably just gone to Safeway and got Beggin’ Strips, and no one would have known the difference. My heart bleeds pity for you and your swollen testicle (it seems the pig got in a parting shot). Good thing T-Ball was ready and willing to stand in for your sorry ass.

As for you, Weiner I Am? You would be so lucky to have the privilege of toting my friends around on your back. How dare you abandon the Bloody Mary’s at the drink check? I’m not saying we want to be drunk, but it’s far better than being abandoned and poured out onto the ground by a random security guard. You’re just lucky you got your IDs back after Just Shawna tossed them on the ground. You probably get carded every time you so much as look at a bar. 

Lucky for you all that Miss Delivery was there to guide the way for you idiots. Running trail in an iterative loop was definitely a good use of all the free time you assholes seem to have.

Good on One Night Only for choosing correctly when at the corner store for a pit stop. The shitty Red Bull she purchased in exchange for the loo deserves whatever she did with it. I hope she filled the can with cigarette butts she found in the Tenderloin. Ska Skank and Broken Boner, I hear, were not as lucky when they were expelled from a cathedral. I’m pretty sure most Catholic churches do NOT have a water fountain front and center, Broken Boner, I don’t care how bad your hangover is. Alcohol is a diuretic, everyone, if you’re going to consume us, please learn to hold it longer.

As for you asshole returners—Sister Fister, Just Sarah, Just Kerry, and T-Ball—this lot doesn’t need your help consuming beer like locusts on a prairie. Same for virgins (why does Primal Vagina bring so many?) and out of towners. Stay far away and you’ll probably keep fast ahold of whatever shred of dignity you have left. 

Hares Deep Stroke and Dildo Baggins, I am holding both of you fully responsible for this travesty. You will be cursed by a tremendous hangover if you so much as go near anything resembling bourbon.

And one more thing—hey. Hey. Titty Boo Boo, what is with that can of ginger ale? Keep that shit away from me, I deserve far better than to be mixed in with that travesty of corn syrup. It’s not even real ginger.

 

No, cmon man, if you’re going to do me, do me straight. Fuck.