There are many things a person needs in order to have a successful drunken night. In a previous blog post I wrote about five rules for the perfect drunken night, which can be read by clicking here and I would like to, I guess, add a little somethin', somethin' to this list - a sixth sense, if you will. I guess some (me) might say that I'm a friggin phenomenal dancer because of my epic and hardcore drunk dance moves. Alcohol = the best factor in creating the greatest dance moves you will ever create in your life... ever.... EVER! Anyway, over the last five or six years that I've been drinking, I've learned to master the skill of epic drunken dance moves. I have a few dance moves that seem to be routine whenever I pound back a drink or two... or just one, you know. These moves are as follows:
This dance move is one of the very first dance moves that I ever created and have learned to master this bad boy to a T. This dance move consists of you having your hands in front of you body like you're holding a paint brush and then stroking as if you're painting a wall, a piece of furniture or a painting as if you're the next Pablo Picasso. You continue this with your right hand for as long as you feel appropriate and then switch over to your left hand to switch it up and fuck with people's minds as to how good and coordinated of a dancer you are.
Now, this one is fairly new (circa Summer of 2010) and I haven't really had time to perfect it that much because I'm usually too busy either destroying my house or corrupting youth on the streets of Waterloo. This dance move is exactly how you would picture an airplane flying in the beautiful, blue sky - except with a crazy drunk girl as the pilot. For this, you put your arms out as if they're the wings on an airplane and then you basically just 'fly' around the bar/club/nasty, dirty dungeon of a basement. It may sound foolish but the fifty-five year old men at Joe Dog's love this move, as should you.
Let me warn ya, this dance move is more complex than anything Michael Jackson, Madonna, Lady Gaga or that creep from N Sync, JC Chasez, has ever pulled. This move works well with a larger group of people, and when I say it works well, it's even more epic when there's at least five people doing it. The move is simple really, it's just the delivery that makes this one a little complicated. Everyone starts off in a circle facing each other, with both their hands together straight up in the air (as if your hands are the hands on a clock and it is twelve o'clock, midnight or afternoon, whichever you prefer). Then, to the beat of the song, move your right hand down to each hour - one, two, three, four, and so on. NOTE: Make sure your left hand stays where it is because you'll be drunk and won't understand how to tell time unless it's either eight o'clock, nine o'clock or any other o'clocks. THIS IS WHERE IT GETS COMPLICATED (stay with me folks), as your hand is making its way around the clock, you must pretend as if you are slapping an ass. That's right my friends, this is also an ass-slapping dance move. Once you have made it all the way back to twleve o'clock, you slowly turn away from the cirlce while doing spirit fingers... and VOILA, there you have "The Clock" dance move.
These three dance moves are the ones that I tend to "perform" for everyone whenever under the influence of that touchy subject we like to call, 'alcohol'. You and I both know that you will have to PRACTICE these dance moves in order or PERFECT them since it is totally worth it in the end. We all know that practice makes perfect, people! Feel free to use these dance moves at your next party, outdoor gathering, Phil's visit or family outing. Just remember to feel the music, don't make an ass of yourself by not following my directions and when in doubt, just party boy the people next to you.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Hello all. I'm sure you're pretty excited about this post because of the title. Well, I have one thing to say to you: you're an alcoholic. It's okay, I've been down that path and know how it feels. Don't worry though because an alcoholic isn't a bad thing. Urban Dictionary describes the term alcoholic as "someone you don't like who drinks more than you do." So basically whoever throws the word 'alcoholic' at you, take it as a compliment because they're clearly jealous of you and your champ status when it comes to drinking. I didn't realize my true alcoholism until my first year in university. Well, I guess that's because that's when it truly began. I always used to make fun of my friends who drank alone, mainly because I always thought of drinking as a social event. Once first year rolled around, I started to appreciate the whole drinking alone thing. For me, I don't drink to just drink and get a little tipsy, it's either I go all the way or nothing at all. That's true for other things as well. Totally kidding. So once first year came and I turned nineteen, I had access to all types of alcohol. I didn't have to limit myself for fear of the unknown when it came to picking my alcoholic beverage, I could try everything and anything I wanted, like crack! I had my choice of going into the liquor store, browsing, and then carefully deciding on what I wanted to order. With that, I held a lot more responsibility on my hands: I was able to buy alcohol for all my underaged friends. I know, as illegal as that sounds, it's so badass at the same time. My friends, being so grateful, would pay me with shots, drinks, diamonds, strippers, cocaine, and anything else dirty that you can think of. My whole life changed and I was brought into this whole new world that I loved and wouldn't dare change. This is when one of my addictions started. That's right, the caffeine addiction. I was having coffee left and right, up and down. I would have it on the couch, on the bed, on the floor and even in the shower. What would be the perfect thing to spice up this little addiction of mine? ANOTHER ADDICTION: ALCOHOL. One day I poured some Kahlua into my coffee to give it that extra kick that it needed. One day turned into the next, the next into the next and then the next turned into several and then several turned into a fuck-load of days where I was wasted by eleven in the morning. Then I started drinking coffee at night to stay up to write papers, study, watch Judge Judy and just do nothing with my time. Did I put some alch in my coffee at night? You betcha. Things turned for the worst when a couple of my friends turned nineteen and we were able to go to bars together. Let's just say, I was happy that I didn't have to go to bars alone anymore. See, the friends I went to bars with didn't live in the same residence as me so I would haul my ass over to their residence to predrink before the bar. However, I obviously had to pre drink before the actual predrink. So, I would blast my music, take some shots and by the time nine o'clock rolled around, I would be fucking smashed. Every now and then a couple people would come into my room and hang out with me so I didn't feel like that much of a dirtbag. They drank, of course and we all had a merry good time. To this day, I still think there is nothing wrong with drinking alone and I quite enjoy it sometimes but I would much rather make an ass of myself in front of an entire room of people than the fake people on the posters on my wall.