Which basically entails repeatedly getting out of bed (i.e. climbing down a fucking ladder) and frantically running to the bathroom to dry heave for a few minutes, then chugging some white grape juice, taking some tylenol, getting back in bed and praying to the good sweet Lord that you'll be able to go back to sleep soon and the next time you wake up you won't be nauseous and wincing at the throbbing pain in your head. Christ on a crutch! I'm on probation. I mean seriously, I am not allowed to drink for at least 2 weeks, but probably closer to 3.....see, it all started innocently enough. I coerce two innocence bystanders at work to go out drinking even though I actually needed to work for another 2 to 3 hours and clear out some of the mountains of shit I have to do. We go get beers at this one bar, then we go get more beers at this other bar, then we go get pizza (thanks be to God....to the two people who forced me to do this, I owe my continued existence), then we go get more beers at this other bar. Unfortunately for the two girls I was with and for everybody else I encountered for the rest of the night, this third bar also had the dreaded "5 shots of anything for 10 bucks" special going on. I got 5 amarettos, which was a great choice (also forced on me by one of the prescient, forward-thinking angels I was with) because it had a low alcohol content and tasted exactly like sweet tea. We shared those shots, and then I proceeded to order 5 personal beams, 4 of which I drank and one of which I gave to a random dude standing behind me.

After that things started to get a little out of hand, mainly because I like instantly became belligerent. I kept yelling stuff at the bartender, like "Can I get some more shots?!?!" and I also started the inevitable ritual of bumming smokes off people. I bummed one off this girl waiting to go to the bathroom and for some unknown reason decided to smoke it in the boys' bathroom. Then I went into the girls' bathroom and started talking to people. The Post-Beam Era of the night was also when I started, like, groping the girls I was with and trying to kiss them and stuff, which I'm pretty positive they were not happy about. The Moment of Optimal Fun came when someone played "Mr. Brightside" on the juke and we all sang at the top of our lungs like drunken buffoons.

Inside sources (i.e. people that were also there but were not belligerent) tell me that we went to other bars after this and got some more beers and shots. I believe them. Apparently I continued my long-standing tradition of being a total obnoxious jack ass when drunk, and fucking with people right and left purely for the purpose of just fucking with them. One day this will get me killed, it's really just a question of when. I'm actually amazed that I've made it this far in life, considering what a moron I am. Back in high school and college, I had all these huge, ripped friends that would come to my rescue when I talked shit to people (my favorite such memory being the time I beat this dude in a funnel-off and then called him a "pussy" as he left the party, then he ran up to me and held me over the sink strangling me until like 5 of said huge, ripped friends jumped on him and kicked him out). But none of those friends live in New York.....

Somehow I managed to get home alive, and that's when the real fun began. I definitely tossed my cookies all over the place, not even bothering to walk the four feet over to the toilet. Finally, I had achieved the warm spits I'd been hoping for all night! I honestly think all the acid coming up out of my tummy, over and over throughout the night and morning, did some serious damage to my throat because it hurts like hell to swallow stuff now.

So, anywho, now that phase 2 of detox (Blog It Off) is done, it's time to move to phase 3, my favorite of all detox stages: Go Get Some Extremely Fattening (Preferably Fried) and Greasy Food (i have this theory, probably wrong, that the increased blood flow to the liver needed to process all the fucking fat also increases the rate at which the poison is taken of....), Find a Cozy Corner in the Nearest Starbucks, and Watch Lonelygirl15 Back Episodes. Here I come, Bree!