We’re all adults here (and if you’re not, just don’t tell your parents…) so I think we can have a grown-up discussion here. So let’s talk about sex, baby. And you’re welcome Salt N Pepa, I just made you relevant again.
But seriously, there are sooo many reasons why drunk sex might be a bad idea, but let’s just tackle one of ‘em for now.
Um… the obvious Coyote Ugly reason? You’re also welcome Coyote Ugly for being the first person on the internet to reference you in years.
I wish I could say that I advocated drinking responsibly, but as my many misadventures indicate, it might be hypocritical for me to do so.
But still, we all hafta draw a line somewhere, right? This is mine.
Drunk stranger sex is never a good idea.
… mainly cuz most people I know who have done it have had something stolen from their house afterwards.

Sometimes, while under the influence, I give in to my baser instincts. I eat the foods I know that I shouldn’t. AFter all, I’ve already thrown caution (and my liver) to the wind, what’s one more thing?
Well, the reason I don’t recommend hot wings isn’t so much a health concern as it is… well, have you ever thrown up hot wings?
It’s not a great experience.
If you haven’t experienced the pain of vomiting up hot wings, learn from mine.
Don’t do it.

Something I learned the other day when at a bar is that cards are best when… well, not when rip roaring drunk, like I was.
Don’t get me wrong, cards and a couple of beers is always a good time, but as in the case of just about every other life lesson I have to offer, moderation is key.
So when I sat down at a table full of strangers and asked if anybody wanted to play cards, it was no surprise that everybody was enthusiastic to get a game going… but then came the problem of remembering the rules of the game.
By this point in the night, I was so drunk it was a wonder that I remembered my own name, so card games weren’t about to happen.

Okay, anyone who knows me knows that I am the last person in the world to say that listening to Rick Astley is a bad idea. After all, he’s one of my top 3 Ricks, (after Springfield but before Ross, in case you were wondering) but along with Rick Astley comes a slight problem… “Never Gonna Give You Up” is the musical equivalent of a carnivorous earwig. It will burrow into your brain and never leave.
When you’re drunk this leads to a solid dozen repeats of the song on iTunes.
When you’re sober, you just hafta muster up the courage to say, “Okay, only one more time.”

One thing I’ve never understood (among many others) is this whole fondue craze. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love cheese as much as the next bloated American and I don’t hate chocolate, so in theory, it’s all good, right?
Maybe it’s not the fondue thing that I don’t get, it might be the whole fondue “experience.” It seems like every year, at least one of my friends wants to go to The Melting Pot (a fondue restaurant for those who are unfamiliar) and… well, on more than one occasion, it has ended badly.
The reason I keep going is half out of supportiveness of my friends, but also because The Melting Pot has some pretty solid drinks. Naturally, one drink becomes a few, and it always seems to happen before the food even arrives.
So imagine, if you will, a table of drunken idiots with metal skewers… recipe for disaster, right? Now add hot melted cheese to the occasion.
… have you ever heard of crotch burns? because they’re a very painful reality.

I’ve been known to get a little… heated when it comes to the world of academia. In fact, I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it.
Still, I’ve never been quite as mad as when I was shushed by a professor.
That’s right, we’re talking about a 24-year old being shushed in a graduate class.
Yeah, evidently that’s a thing… but still, I do not recommend scolding your professor (well, ever really…) but particularly when you have been drinking.
It makes it really awkward when you get to class early the next week and it’s just the two of you in the classroom.

Shockingly enough, I’m not talkin.g about the movie. I don’t know what it is about Valentine’s Day, but something about it just puts me in the most romantic mood.
That being said, sometimes a date is hard to come by, but ya know what isn’t? Someone else who lacks the same self confidence and is also filled with self loathing. This is where the booty call comes in.
Only trouble is, after a few drinks, the rules of “no strings attached” are a little harder to discern… and that, my friends, is how you get yourself an unofficial (I didn’t want it anyways) relationship.

It wasn’t too long ago that I was a runner.
Running was my life.
In fact, I was training for the Chicago marathon, so I didn’t have much of a choice.
One of my last drunken hoorahs before I swore off the liquor (detox before the marathon) I found myself with the stunning idea that “Hair makes my head hot, so if I cut it all off, I’ll be much cooler during my runs.”
Shaving one’s head while drunk is a lot harder than you’d think.

Now, this one is completely on me.
I just wanted to wish her a happy birthday. For those unfamiliar with my mother, she’s completely and totally technologically inept. For the past three years she didn’t even know how to read text messages, let alone send them.
I guess we have her new husband to thank for that.
A conversation about what’s been going on in her life and my lack of employment is painful when we do it over the phone, but the prolonged texting? Far worse.

We’ve all had our fair share of embarrassing drunk texting stories, but ya know what helps to really put it into perspective? When you drunk text your mother.
See, the trouble with this situation started when I entered my mother’s number into my phone.
“Jennifer”
Now, the “j” section of my phone is some prime real estate. I mean, I know at least three Jasons, some of whom were… more than friends.
So imagine the horror upon waking up after a night of drunken debauchery to see that I had texted a booty call… or at least I thought I texted a booty call.
“Jennifer” and “Jason” are really close in my phone book, okay?!?
… yeah, my mom and I still haven’t talked about that one.