Like giving my cat beer. Ha, he is so drunk....or maybe dead.
Here is four things I do when I'm drunk and alone, but I think some of you do these very same things.
1. Looking up one song on Youtube only to click on every other song ever made.
When I'm drunk, it's only a matter of time until I hear a song on some movie, TV show, or porn soundtrack that I have to listen to right now you just don't understand shut up. So I go to Youtube to hear the song, and while listening, I notice one of those recommended links on the side seducing me. So of course I click on it to listen to another song. Then another. Then another. I grab another Coortussin (Coors light mixed with Robitussin cough syrup) then listen to another song. Three hours later, I have somehow listened to Fleetwood Mac, Santigold, Gwar, The Dark Knight theme, Jay-Z, that one song by Katy Perry I like but won't tell anyone, Chumbawumba, various Final Fantasy themes, a lecture on 16th century England, and the Gin Blossoms. Especially The Blossoms. Cool kids just call them "The Blossoms". Don't even front.
Gin? Blossoms? Is this some sort of flower martini?
If I were to make a mix of the songs I listened too during one of these nights, it would make for the worst mix of all time. Actually, I tend to ride 80's and 90's music pretty heavily during these drunken Youtube sessions so the mix might work just as long as I never get sick of Tears for Fears. Who am I kidding? I will NEVER get sick of Tears for Fears. But since when did I like Fiona Apple? Oh and Eve6? I feel you bro, I feel you. Here's to the night Eve6. Cheers.
2. Attempt to cook breakfast.
Not sure why somebody a long, long time ago decided breakfast was the meal for drunken shenanigans at 2:00am, but whoever it was deserves a fucking accommodation. Greasy breakfast just goes so well with 40's of Evil Eye. Go to any 24-hour diner around last call on a weekend and you will see more drunks and servers who hate their job than in any bar. It's funny, but I've never really thought about the type of cook who works this job, at these hours, while every patron is drunk. I'm pretty sure the dudes working in these kitchens are former KGB, real life Danny Trejo's from Machete, or sex offenders who can't get any other job. Oh, good. The hands that made my eggs also touched children inappropriately.
Uh, anyway, when I'm alone I don't have the luxury to go to a diner at 2am unless I want to look like a weirdo. So instead I decide to put my poor culinary skills to the test and make breakfast myself. I haven't burned any buildings down but I have burned plenty of bacon that I still ate anyway and overcooked eggs to the point of having a plastic like texture. Well I may have just put plastic wrap on the pan because that seemed like a good way to keep the eggs from sticking but hey, I'm not a foodologist. My drunken mind probably considered it a good alternative after failing to find butter in the medicine cabinet.
I don't know. I still think I need one more pot to make scrambled eggs.
3. Attempt to play Madden.
When I'm drunk and get a craving for virtual football, I dust off the old Madden 07 game and throw it into the old PS2. The game barely works anymore despite me only using the game disk as a beer coaster 16, maybe 17 times. The TE cross bootleg play is money in every situation and it's something, I think, the game knows too well. It's like the game disk is actively trying to scratch itself on a precise spot so the play will never work anymore. In other words, the game is fucking cheating.
I don't remember "teleport" as a play. Via Sigma.
When I'm drunk though, even money plays become nearly impossible to pull off. My delayed reaction time results in running plays where I run directly into a linebacker, passing plays where I'm throwing into triple coverage, and defensive plays where I'm diving into thin air at a location where the ball carrier was 3 seconds ago. Play-calling becomes an issue too as all the plays start to look as if algebra and trigonometry had blurry, confusing children. I start thinking the buttons on my controller start switching places after failing to complete a pass in the first half of a game, so I decide to cheat the cheater by turning up my players catching ability to 100 as well as my quarterback's accuracy to 100. Then, of course, the game becomes boring because there is no challenge. Well, at least until my drunken mind shanks the game winning field goal. I've never seen a video game camera have to pan left to follow a kick on a field goal before, but I think the game just wanted to mock me by show the fan sitting in the first row by the 20 yard line getting a souvenir.
4. Watch a movie I have no business watching in a drunken state of mind.
I don't know how many times I've stumbled across Mulholland Drive or 200 Cigarettes or My Little Pony: The Movie drunk and decided to watch the entire thing despite being really confused, about, everything really. Strange thoughts pop into my head while watching these. "I thought Naomi Watts was dead. Who are these people and why did they let Courtney Love out of her cage?. Hydia is pretty but Reeka is the pony I want to have adventures with."
Pretty girl, I'm a, uh - I mean, you're a pretty girl. Via Elfwood.
The absolute worst idea is watching a movie that makes me, for lack of a better term, emotional. I may have, more than once, cried into a glass of Zero-English (Pepsi Zero mixed with Olde English malt liquor) because the robot in The Iron Giant just sacrificed himself to save the very people who tried to kill him. Why does it have to be like that? There is nothing wrong with a robot loving a little boy. Okay, well, that sounded wrong. I'm not...I'm not writing this right. You see, the robot becomes friends with a little boy named Hogarth. Yeah, that's seriously his name. But when the Iron Giant calls Hogarth his friend, I mean, it's just so touching. And the Iron Giant is voiced by, Vin Diesel? Holy shit. I guess that explains why my tears are, fast and furious.
You know what, screw you guys! The Iron Giant survived (kinda) anyway. Surely the thousands of Iron Giant pieces blown across thousands of miles of Earth in every imaginable direction will recollect so that he can visit his friend Hogarth within his lifetime. Surely.
Disclaimer: I'm just messing around. I don't actually do any of this. Ha ha. Heh. Ehhhhh.
Nervous laughter aside, follow me on Twitter. Like ponies on Facebook. Cry with me about robots at firstname.lastname@example.org