When I wrote this post on how to smuggle alcohol into a club, one of my best friends was ... well, I wouldn't say she was appalled but let's say she had her reservations. Or better yet, she had A reservation, that one being that it was socially irresponsible of me to write about such things because 'there are teenagers out there who can access your blog and get ideas, you know'. Well ... I did know but frankly I simply didn't ... Well, I wouldn't say that I didn't care but let's say I ... No, wait, I would and will say — I didn't care, period. It's not like I was selling cocaine at some playground behind a kindergarten or something. But then, months and months later, something happened.
One day much later on, the said friend of mine got a baby. A sweet adorable precious darling baby boy. An annoying little twat on occasion, yes, but still — the cutest apple of his mother's eye. And surprisingly, he didn't put things into perspective just for her, he did that also for me — THANKS, baby boy.
But it wasn't just him, my brother getting kids and my other friends having spawns of their own really put a face to those 'teenagers' I didn't care much about before, while now ... let's just say I'm not indifferent. So in order for me to redeem myself for writing about the positive side effects of alcohol consumption and other socially irresponsible stuff, I've decided to put together a list of reasons why alcohol isn't so awesome and the list is comprised of possible scenarios which all without exception happened in real life either to me or to people I personally know or to people I don't know but have seen them live through the following developments. But to burst your bubble in advance, I'm not ever planning on disclosing which of this stories did or didn't happen to me personally so don't even try and ask me, that's not the point of this post.
The point — a very much welcomed one during this holiday/drinking season — is: DRINK RESPONSIBLY. Yes, yes, I know, booooriiiiing, but there's a lot more serious shit that can happen to you which can cost you your life, not just your dignity or nasal mucosal tissue for a couple of days like in the examples below if those don't 'scare' you enough, you know. So don't say I didn't warn you. Cheers!
Imagine yourself sitting at a bar and by mistake, because you're drunk as fuck, you grab a candle in a glass, thinking that it's your drink, and down the melted, scorching hot wax thus burning your ... well, everything. This scenario is especially plausible now that there are candles everywhere thanks to the frigging holiday season, ho ho ho.
Imagine yourself sitting in a car after a party, driven by your parents or your friends' parents who were kind enough to come and get you, so you try to behave and be all polite and shit while attempting to act sober when you all of a sudden feel sick and throw up. In your mouth. And then swallow the puke down. Because you don't want to make a scene. And then you throw up again. Because swallowing your own puke made you sick, what else. And when you swallow that re-puked puke down again, guess what happens next... Eventually you either get home and puke your guts out in private like any decent human being or you stop being revolted by your own vomit and stop gagging, in which case kudos to you.
Imagine yourself coming to your friend's parents' home in the middle of the night after a night on the town and you quietly as a mouse tiptoe to the bathroom to brush your teeth or pee or whatever where you, after you've successfully (and surprisingly) bypassed all of the hurdles on the way, tumble in your friend's parents' bathtub knocking over all of their soaps and shower gels and body washes and whatnot so there's a bazillion bottles flying and falling everywhere while you just sit in the middle of the shitstorm, sprawled in the bathtub, unable to get up and laughing your ass off because you can't comprehend that your little stunt just woke up half the neighborhood.
Imagine yourself coming up with a brilliant idea of doing your shots of tequila 'Russian style'. Which apparently means you first sniff a line of salt (yes, sniff, as in sniff through your nose), down the shot and then squeeze the lemon wedge in your eye. Surprisingly, no matter how drunk you are, you feel the salt and the citric acid eye drops, so bottoms up!
Imagine yourself getting tired of your shoes in the middle of the party and because you're wasted beyond (re)cognition you basically don't care much about anything so you take them off and then more or less immediately cut your feet and lose the shoes.
Imagine yourself coming home, stumbling to the bathroom, puking your guts out and then dragging yourself to your bed to sleep. Not too bad, right? But then imagine the next morning when you wake up and go to use the bathroom where you find out that you threw up in the sink and not in the toilet bowl a foot away like every other reasonable person, no. So now the sink is full of a lovely mixture of red wine and whiskey shots and pizza bits and whatnot (i.e. your puke), filling the damn sink to the rim and successfully clogging it, of course. There's nothing better than being elbow-deep in your won puke, stirring it with your finger, trying to unclog the damn sink first thing in the morning. Imagine that.
Imagine yourself waking up after a party, going through your phone and finding a picture of a penis, a LOVELY penis, amongst all of the other ones, but thanks to all the shit that you drank, pretending you're the frigging Sahara, you can't remember whose dick that is, so now you're like that prince from Cinderella: you're stuck with only a pretty picture and no Cinderfella. Alcohol amnesia is no picnic.
Imagine yourself taking a nap in a local park in the middle of the night on your walk home from a party because you're too
tired drunk to walk
think straight. When you eventually do get up hours later, there's a
slight chance you won't know where you are or where you're supposed to
go and if, IF you're lucky enough, there's a river somewhere near by
which you may or may not stumble into. If you're lucky.
Imagine yourself coming home, trying really hard not to wake up your flatmates (who may or may not be your parents) and then losing your balance in the entrance hall, smashing hard into the closet. Relieved that you didn't fall flat on your face on the ground, you forget for a split second that the damn closet has one of those sliding doors and you start sliding forward, picking up momentum but not your feet because you're too drunk to have any reflexes, so you do end up flat on your face. All of this commotion may or may not wake up your
Imagine yourself meeting someone at a party and you drag him or he drags you to the bathroom stall where things get hot and heavy when in the middle of fellatio your alcohol-sodden brain stops suppressing your gag reflex and the poor dude bursts out of the stall cursing and screaming and runs to the sink to wash his phallus covered in vomit. Sexy, right?
I've been recently added to a list of Slovenian bloggers composed by Peter Filec. You can find his blog here and the list of all Slovenian bloggers here — go have a read!
Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely on Wednesdays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!