For Fuck's Sake | Issue 13
Hold Me Closer, Winey Dancer
8pm: Iím drinking you out of a wine glass in the hopes of classing you up a bit but I probably shouldnít have bothered because itís as pointless as sending Snooki to Charm School or trying to get Lindsay Lohan to stay in rehab. This is because you taste how Joan Butcherís breath smells; the only aroma you have is of piss on the side of a building, with some slight pubic hair undertones.
8:30pm: Hello, wine! You still taste like urine but Iím happy to tell you that itís growing on me. You arenít just any urine; youíre Jesusí urine. You are what Bear Grylls would drink if he were in the Bible, which is fitting because being in Boogie Nights does feel a bit like an episode of Man vs. Wild, but with less manliness and more pelvic thrusts.
8:45pm: Did you know there is karaoke at Manila Grill?! I didnít know that! The waiter just sang us ďUptown GirlĒ and it was fucking fabulous. He danced like he was on an episode of Ellen.
9:30pm: What was it like growing up in Wither Hills, wine? I bet it was nice there. Maybe you never got to see your home, though, like that snake from Harry Potter who was bred in captivity. Who knows, wine. Who knows.
10:15pm: Iíve introduced you to my friend called tequila. I know they say that three is usually a crowd but donít worry wine, donít worry, Iíve got this. Remember that they also say good things come in threes (which is true, for example (1) Destinyís Child and (2) the Toy Story movies). Or is it that bad things come in threes? Who knows?
11pm: Itís definitely the case that good things come in threes, because why else would they have invented threesomes? Thatís called logic, wine. And you help me use it all the time.
2:30am: Why, wine? Whhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
3:30am: Fuck you wine, I hate you. Youíre a mean girl. Youíre a bitch.
3:33am: Iím not angry at you, wine, Iím just disappointed.
3:45am: Good night wine, I love you so much, Iíll see you next Saturday xoxo.