Colds suck. Colds especially suck in the G-Damn Summer. What the fuck? Really. It is hot, it is sunny. What about this weather is causing me to sneeze every few minutes, hack up a lung, and make my head feel like it should look like this.......
I mean honestly, I thought my sore throat would go away and I would be fine, because, again, it is SUMMER! The sore throat I thought was from yelling during our drunken stupors every night or from taking a few too many shots of 99 Bananas or Vodka. Not from some cold sent directly to me by Satan himself.
And speaking of 99 Bananas, while on vacation, my friend Jason and I made up a drink which includes 99 Bananas. And because I am so very nice I will tell you how to make it. It is 1/3 glass pineapple juice, 1/3 glass ginger ale, and 2 shots of 99 Bananas. We made it up in the liquor store while my husband checked out the beer section and Jason's pregnant wife Kerri patiently circled the block because she felt it was wrong for a pregnant woman to enter a liquor store. Neither of us knew how it would turn out, but after making a few at the party, Jason told me they were "fucking awesome" and decided we should name the drink. Me, being less than imaginative in the soberist of circumstances, was put on the spot. Here is what I remember running through my mind at that moment:
A name for this drink.....hmmm......99 bananas.....I like bananas......I wonder if they have any bananas......oh wait, I have to name the drink.....a drink....I would like another drink.......Jason should make me a drink.......gotta stay focused, name the drink.....I got it.....
"How about Ferris Lambert Cocktail"
Jason looked at me like I was a moron, and Jay just shook his head. After the 5 minutes of thinking about it (at least it felt like 5 minutes, it was probably more like 30 seconds), this was the best I could come up with. I am that lame, honestly.
Jason, being a great imaginative genius, came up with The Jamaican Rim Job in like 2 seconds and from then on, I was the inventor of The Jamaican Rim Job. As I calmly sat and sipped my 100th drink of the week while staring at the fire and listened to others conversations, Jason bursts out of the house, and yells out "Christie, we need you in the house. There are some guys that want some Jamaican Rim Jobs and you are the only one who can do it right!" Fucking awesome. Everyone burst out laughing, and I was like "What, don't yell that out. Jay I swear, I'm not getting a rim job" and he was like "No shit" and I stumbled into Jason and made him half carry me to the house and kitchen.
I must tell you that Jason is my favorite drinking buddy. When we party together, we have to do whatever the other is doing. If Jason is downing a bottle of champagne straight from the bottle, so am I. If I am doing 10 shots of Tequila in a row, Jason is right beside me shot for shot. We hang out with each other through most of the evening, and can usually be found making fun of someone more drunk than us. This particular night, we were busy making fun of Jay, who was too drunk to actually leave his chair anymore. He sat zoned out on the bonfire forever. Jason and I tried throwing things at him, but he didn't move. Then we tried freaking him out from behind a tree, he didn't even know we were there. We lost interest finally, and went back into the house to drink more.
I can only imagine how the party looked to Sarah and Kerri, both pregnant and undrunk. We must have looked like a bunch of idiots. I miss Kerri drinking with us. She is so funny, and has been known to fall down stairs and cover her white top with a red drink, and then sit there and laugh her ass off. Maybe next year.
I will leave you today with a picture from the party. It was taken pretty early in the evening, Jason and I are only slightly out of it, and Jay is sober, I think. We are taking shots of 99 Bananas out of Pimp and Ho shot glasses. I really want a pair.
I look like SHIT, but it is still funny. Jason is staring intently at his Pimp shot glass for some reason. Don't you like my puffed out hair (naturally curly hair is the bane of my existence) and puffy, flushed, shiny liquor face? It was a hard week, I tell you. The cold just goes to prove that every pleasure has it's pain.
P.S. Don't you like how damn short I am compared to my ball and chain. I usually don't notice it, but in this picture, it is hard not to. He is a freaking giant towering over me in this shot.