Yes, for those of you who aren't as cool as me (and I mean that very seriously - obviously) - that is a lyric to one of my favorite 80's band - Huey Lewis and the News. If you haven't heard the song - or the band, please download it. They are good, and fun. And honestly, you can actually understand the words (god, I sound old - and don't get me wrong I love ALL kinds of music, hell I listen to anything from rap to jazz to even Marilyn Manson - so suck it bitches!). Anyway. Huey - he's good.
But, back to the drugs. Don't get me twisted (like I actually use those slang terms - I'm the whitest white girl you'll ever meet!) I don't do drugs - never touched anything even the weed.
What I'm saying is that I need a vice. Maybe drugs would be the trick? Yeah, probably not, I'm thinking a LEGAL vice. You know - drinking, smoking, something like that.
I'd have to say my vice before must have been the sex, or the bjs. You know - that's not really "good" for you, and I was doing that. It was something to pass the time, something that took away stress. Nothing like a good orgasm to take your cares away. (ohh, and cares go away fast with a nice big O - those boys who couldn't provide that weren't going to pass muster with me, and they weren't going to last - I was in this - or that shall we say for stress relief). Fast forward to today, and the "new" thing as silly as it may be and looks like sex and the bj's aren't so regular anymore (reference the latest blog entry about Drying up). So I'm thinking about taking on one of these new vices.
Now, first... drinking... I'm not a big drinker as I've "spoke" about before. But there is a reason why... When I drink I tend to get myself in trouble. I have a very bad habit of drunk texting and drunk dialing. Years and years ago (and that's why I can tell the story) I had a friend who I had met through an old job, and every time I would get drunk, without fail I would call him (this is before texting was popular - yes I know - STONE AGES!). Yes, I would call him and usually tell him that "I needed him" and I would tell him over and over again. Often in multiple 2 am phone calls. Oh wait, I must also tell you that he was engaged at the time. The next day he'd always call me back and we'd laugh about it, because - well, I'm a dumbass. And at the time I was 22 and he was 26 or something. But, now I'm 30, and uhhh, I still drunk dial and drunk text (thank god I no longer have his phone number - ohh and by the way, he never got married to that girl, he married another woman and they got divorced years later. Ohh, and even more details, he was HUNDREDS of miles away so it was not a booty call by any stretch).
How about another story (I'm feeling in a story telling mood!) There once was a bar in DC called Polly Esters - some of you might remember it. On Friday night it was all you can drink for $20. yes, $20. Umm. yes. $20, all you can drink, all night + 3 floors of dancing. I was younger and dumber. Good thing I can't remember a lot of what happened there. But we shall say that Polly and I were not always good friends the next morning. And thank god I don't know what the guys looked like that I "fell into" their lips. And thank you to my friends, who although were trashed off their asses as well, were good enough to keep the "falling into" at lips only! We might have been drunk, but we weren't stupid.
OK, maybe drinking isn't such a great vice. Then again, maybe it is. I'll start tomorrow!
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