I would rather drink period blood than a vodka cranberry.

The city hates me now because I backed up the sewer system with all the vomit I sprayed into the sink last night. It was the worst night of my life. Just thinking about drinking that stuff makes my stomach want to disown my abdomen and donate itself to science. And by "that stuff," I mean vodka and cranberry juice. Cranberry juice is so tart that you could put one drop in a vat of liquor and consider it a mixed drink. I swear. That stuff goes down like saliva.

It looks harmless. So serene and peaceful. Too bad it's the primary components of Satan's bloodstream. I would rather slay a ragged out aging Bronx hooker and drain her decaying uterus into my mouth than take one more sip of vodka and cranberry juice.

They say, "Beer before liquor, never been sicker." That's nonsense. I've had many beers followed by many shots and never once did I mistake my roommate for Windows NT.

I was so sick last night. I wish I could explain it, but I have no idea what happened.

I think that after I painted my neighbor's porch with the grilled cheese and tomato soup I had for breakfast, I stumbled inside. Everybody turned their heads from watching GI Joe just in time to see me waddle to the kitchen sink and puke out every liquid in my body including my spinal fluid. And my semen. And that really sucked. Not like I was in any position to get laid, but I still felt I was missing out.

After that, everybody left and went outside except this one fat guy who tried to comfort me. He was like, "Everything's going to be okay." Yeah, "going to be," as in future tense. Future prospects of happiness don't really make up for the intense burning sensation throbbing throughout my entire existence. So I dry heaved onto his fat stupid face and passed out on the tile floor. After that, who knows? I probably had crazy anal sex with a mousepad.

I just thought of an awesome solution to date rape. If a girl is on a date with a sketchy guy who will probably slip roofies in her vodka, all she has to do is slip cranberry juice into it as well. Yes, she will get roofed out and lose conrol of her vagina, but no matter how horny a guy is, he'll never rape a girl with half-digested hamburger and cottage cheese blasting out her nose like an ice cream dispenser.

One time I got drunk on Mad Dog 20/20 and puked ramen noodles. The crazy thing is that all the noodle strands were fully intact. I don't know what happened. It was the strangest thing because I always chew my food really well. And I didn't even eat ramen noodles that day.

I felt so bad when I woke up this morning. It wasn't the typical hangover. It was the, "I feel so fucking miserable, I must have been 'the drunk guy at the party' last night" kind of hangover. Nobody likes to wake up and realize you were the drunk guy. It's like endless regrets, but it sucks because you can't remember what you regret doing. I was probably the biggest asshole in the world last night. Running around grabbing girls' tits while I breath pukemist onto their face. I can't even imagine.

Keep this in mind next time you decide to mix yourself some vodka and cran. Look around the room at all the girls and ask yourself, "Which of these girls will I regret never having a chance with after I have a few sips of this stuff and get belligerent all over the futon?" Because if you do, you're finished. But if you really want cranbodka that bad, don't get too downhearted because there's always mouse pads.

Last updated October 6th, 2006