Why Orange Juice Is So Great

Orange juice is one of the few wonders of this world. Forget this seven wonders. This is the wonder!

What, pray tell, spawned this rant? I'm glad you asked. Let me tell you:

• Orange juice is loaded with Vitamin C, making it great for overcoming illnesses.
• While ill, water tastes awful. But Orange juice doesn't!
• When on the tail-end of your illness, you can pour yourself a glass of orange juice and spike it with a healthy dousing of vodka, feeling great about the ability to cure your illness while getting drunk. The best part: no one will know!

Afterthoughts

As you can witness from here, here, and even here, this happened again. Yes, I held a short-lived reign of drunken terror on the blogosphere that will forever be visible for anyone—including future employers. If you think that was bad, feel fortunate you weren't the waiter who was nearly impaled to death by my hand as I shot it up in the air at the exact moment he was trying to clear my dishes from the table.

The orange juice has been overflowething from mine cup, but I don't have plans to lay in bed and moan all day long. Probably because I was mostly drunk on wine this time. For some reason, I can handle wine better than beer the next morning.

For the record, I also didn't gain five pounds from last night. Only two. Go wine!

Off record: Expect another post really soon. I would like to bump that one that mentions the tampon wrapper off the front page as soon as poosible.

Drunk Dial #333: The Future Mrs. Pratt*

Me:"Omigod! It's the future Mrs. Pratt! Omigod! I can't tell you what an honor it is to speak with you!"

My friend laughed. "You're drunk dialing me, again! You were supposed to call on Wednesday!" she said.

"I know, I know! I'm such a horrible person. But: Omifuckingod! You're getting married!"

She had just told me today over the interwebs that she was not officially officially getting married in a year in Budapest. I.e. they weren't quite engaged, but they've made the plans. I.e. The cheap bastard hasn't given her a ring yet, but they've made the plans.**

Me, again: "Duuuuude! I am so fuckin' drunk!"

Her: "I can tell..."

Me: "Are you drunk yet?"

Her: "Of course! I'm an architect! A drunken architect! Not only do I have an image to uphold, but I've also earned the title of 'Professional Drunk Bastard'."

Me: "I can't wait 'till you come and visit! I'm gonna have to buy you a round of drinks to celebrate the 'not official official engagement!"

Her: laughter.

Me; "Duuuuude, seriously! I haven't even met this guy yet. I've only seen his picture! He still has to pass my test of 'appropriate husband material for my 'twin'***."

Her: "This is such a deep and meaningful drunken conversation!"

Me: "As if you could expect any less!?! We're fuckin' toasted. The both of us! We should solve the mystery of the universe while we're at it!"

Her: "Don't forget the mystery of humankind existence! We'll totally be able to solve that shit in a matter of seconds."

Me: "Duuuuude. Let's start right now! The number 47..."****

*I doubt this is #333, but three is my lucky number, so three threes must be super-lucky. And considering the subject matter of this call, I'd say super-luck is appropriate!

**This is all my drunken interpretation, of course, so pay no heed to it.

***She is totally my twin who has been seperated from me at birth. In a metaphorical, "I'm Whitey-McWhite and she's Mexican but we still say the same things at the same time, even when we first met" sort of way.

****It's probably best not to pay much heed to this entire post, other than for laughs. Afterall, it's about a drunk dial, written while I was drunk. I cannot verify the accuracy of the above, though I do remember drunk dialing said friend and talking about her engagement.

Voice of Reason

Why is it that while drunk, my drunken voice of reason seems more reasonable than my sober voice of reason? Witness:

"OMG! I should lock the door because I'm taking a shower during in close proximity to the time that Tyler and our friend Jeff will be here. Wait! If I lock the door and happen to drunkenly slip in the shower and knock myself out, there's no way that Tyler can help me. Besides, it'd probably take him 30 minutes of playing Super Smash Bros. with Jeff before he realized something was wrong. I should keep the door unlocked because it's obvious that someone's taking a shower in here with the water running and the only person brazen enough to walk in the bathroom is Tyler, who's seen my naked wet breasts on more than one occasion and whom also happens to live here."

"OMG! I shouldn't drink this last glass of wine because I had the equivalent of a half a bottle of wine already, and I will soon be going out to a bar with friends to have beer and fatty foodstuffs! But, it's such a waste of wine! NO! NO! I must resist because if I drink this wine here and now, I will probably start puking after my first glass of beer. And that's no good because I have a drunken writer image to uphold. And no one will believe me when I describe how little food and how much wine I've consumed before 6 o'clock in the evening. And then I'll make an utter fool of myself and my drunken writer image will be on shaky ground! OMG NO!"

"OMG! There's a brown spot on the toilet bowl that I have only partially noticed during the past week (i.e. the last friday when I got piss drunk on beer and my intestines sorely regretted it in the morning)! I should clean that small but obvious spot with the toilet bowl brush right now because it's likely that Tyler and our friend Jeff will be here soon and Jeff may need to use the toilet. Because Jeff is a man and not a woman, it's also likely that he will be staring into the toilet bowl. Wait! Women also stare into the toilet because they are inherently cleaner than men! I should clean the toilet right now just in case Tyler brings home a woman as well!"

"OMG! There's old laundry on the bathroom floor! I must clean the panties up right now because Tyler and our friend Jeff will be here soon and Jeff may need to use the bathroom! It's totally not proper for a lady to leave her used panties on the bathroom floor—especially in the presence of a guest. Tyler's boxers are totally expected, because ... well... he's Tyler. And everyone knows how Tyler is now. But my panties? Totally inexcusable. I should put those somewhere totally hidden. Not the dirty clothes pile in the bedroom because Mary has a tendency to walk into the room and leave the door wide open so everyone can see the mess we hide in here. But, instead, the washing machine! OMG! I'm so fuckin' brilliant! No guest is ever going to look in our washing machine because it's a freakin' washing machine and that's where dirty panties go. And then there's the fact that there's a big freakin' noisy double doorage blocking the washing machine, so if a guest in our has happened to have a dirty panty fetish, I'd hear when the opened the doors and would have plenty of time to scream loudly and expose their nasty dirty panty fetish!"

"OMG! There's a tiny piece of tampon wrapper on the floor that is bright yellow! How the hell did I miss this?!? OMG! I need to clean that up right now. But not only that, I must flush it down the toilet in case Tyler and our friend Jeff—who will be here soon—come in and Jeff needs to use the bathroom! Must immediately obliterate all evidence of being a woman!"

"OMG! I need to stop writting this crazy drunken blog post and put clothes on because Tyler and our friend Jeff will be here soon and I don't want anyone other than Tyler to see me buck naked—save for a towel on my head—while I frantically type this post out as I sit on the bed. That's just totally gross and sexual and a sight only for my boyfriend whom I share an apartment with. And the dog, because the dog doesn't give a damn about anything other than food, pissing on the grass outside, and attention."

"OMG! This post needs no edits! Wait! That's because I'm super freakin' drunk and my standard of quality has gone about 50% lower than usual! OMGLOL!"

No More Beer

It's a vow I keep making to myself of late. I spend a fun evening with The Manflesh and our friends, consume five times more beer than everyone combined, make a drunken-fool out of myself, spill orange juice and vodka on my pants repeatedly, and somehow make it home with all of my possessions in tact and in my hand. The next morning, I wake up five pounds heavier and with a displeased stomach that imitates an active volcano. I spend the rest of the day in bed, drinking orange juice, and moaning to myself. "No more beer," I vow, meaning that from that day forward, I will only get piss-drunk with hard alcohol.

But because I'm unemployed (without unemployment benefits, I might add) I spend my days bored at home. Not depressed, miraculously—but bored nonetheless. Being unemployed with no money is most definitely the worst punishment one can suffer, because something as simple as getting out of the house and going to a cafe becomes an unattainable expense. After a week of being holed up in my confined apartment, applying to an endless sea of job applications that never lead to an interview, I look forward to the next weekend when The Manflesh and I meet up with friends. As soon as the first pitcher of beer is bought, my vow is broken and my lesson remains unlearned.

Drunken Delights

In honor of the upcoming holiday season, here are three drink concoctions from my very own bizarre collection. You most likely will not find these anywhere else. I'm too lazy to check, so think of this as a "Mikania exclusive, most likely".

Raisin Shot*

1 shot vodka
1 chocolate covered raisin

Drop the raisin in a shot glass and fill the glass with vodka. Drink. The raisin should be the last thing down and serves to cut the sting of the vodka, assuming this is the first drink of the night.

The Turtle Tank

3/4 part citrus vodka
1/4 part lemonade
1 chocolate covered raisin

Prepare and down the drink in the same fashion as the Raisin Shot.

The Mighty Zoltar

vodka
lemonade
1 chocolate covered raisin

Start with 1-2 shots vodka to a highball. Top off with lemonade, stir well, and add the raisin as a "garnish".

*Credit for the Raisin Shot goes to John, a friend's awesome roommate who continually inspires me to achieve new drunken heights.

Another Drunken Post

I may have lost my "motor skills", but I still have the sensibility to wash a dirty pitcher that's been sitting on the counter for seven days before refilling it with lemonade. This, I am quite proud of.

I'm also feeling proud of the fact that I can coherently write (and spell) while drunk. Go on; praise me. Praise me, damnit!

Why Alcohol Is Enough

It was probably the most disgusting thing I have ever done. It was just like a story a friend told me about why she didn't take drugs any longer. She had tried speed once in high school and all she could do was sit on her bedroom floor and pick up dust particles that she had never noticed before. Every time she thought she had picked up the last miniscule dust particle, she looked around her room and realized that there were more she had missed. She wasn't sure how long she sat on her bedroom floor picking up dust, but she was pretty sure it had been a number of hours- she stopped about the time she sobered up from the speed.

So there I sat, scraping away with my right thumb and forefinger. I scraped and I scraped and I scraped. I think it was about an hour of constant scraping until I realized that not only the neighbors might a hear vague yet constant scratching sound through their bathroom wall/kitchen floor, but that I was also ruining my fingernails. But as soon as I thought about ruining my fingernails, I scornfully countered with, "Screw the fingernails! It's not like I get them done and actually care about them! Hahahahahaha!" Consequently, I kept scrapping.

I don't know how much alcohol I had had since most of it was an attempt to rid our pantry of mixers purchased three years ago for Tyler's legendary 21st birthday party (probably the best party in the history of our cluster of friends, thank you). The rest was consumed after I was drunk and had decided I needed more rum/whiskey/dry white wine in order to keep myself at the happy drunken stage I was already at. It worked, as I think I listened to and bounced around to Danse Macabre and Danse Macabre Remixed ten times each. (See, this is why I plan on becoming a "great drinker"- I don't know when to stop.) Hopefully, it was loud enough to piss off JamesandSarah.

Anyway, all I can say is that I'm still drunk, yet I must have sobered up enough to realize just how disgusting it is to use your fingernails to scrape four months of collected foot scum and dog scum off the sides of your bathtub. Gah. How am I going to live this one down? It has to be the worst drunken moment of my life. Thank <insert god of choice here> I was the only one around to witness it.

Weather Forcast: Goatse With a Touch of Vodka and Peach Schnapps Skies

Every week, I can count on having at least one (often more) of my images hotlinked. I hate hotlinking. Can I stress how much I hate hotlinking? I hate hotlinkers.

Anyway, there are three images on my site that have the "privilege" of being the most hotlinked. Two of those images were taken with my camera and all copyrights belong to me. One image was lifted from a spam email sent to Tyler.

(By the way, did I mention how much I hate hotlinkers? I hate hotlinkers.)

So, I guess the point of this post is that I get a lot of hotlinks to my images. It's been a really big problem lately thanks to Myspace and Xanga- two places that seem equally adept at harboring bandwidth thieves. I've even included warnings at the end of each post containing the popular hotlink pictures that I will punish hotlinkers. However, this has not stopped the rash of hotlinking I get each week.

And I highly doubt this message will do anything to stop the hotlinking, but I'm posting it because:

1. I'm currently drunk.
2. I'm currently alone with a dog that happens to fart and abandon ship, thus leaving me to suffer with her coma-inducing stench.
3. And, I really feel like ranting about how much I hate hotlinkers.

(I forgot; did I mention how much I hate hotlinkers yet? I really, really hate hotlinkers.)

So, anyway. If you decide to hotlink any of my images, please don't underestimate me. I'm really quite vindictive and creative when it comes to replacing my images. Eventually, I will post a tutorial of sorts that shows just how far I go when it comes to hotlinking. I'm serious. I actually have a folder on my precious little iBook titled "Hotlink Death". You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. It contains all documentary evidence of hotlinkings and the consequences therein. Oh, and also- whatever you do- do not understimate my ability to look at my dear friend Goatse, especially while intoxicated.

Pepper Me

At first, my goal was to merely have fun. But later in the evening, my goal changed to getting so drunk that I�d be too sick to go to my evil German class in the morning. This new goal garnered me a couple of sloppy drunken high fives. I don�t drink very often, but when I do it tends to be an excessive amount. For some reason, I have more fun this way. I think it�s a carryover from the 21 law of the US- something I am strongly against. I mean, really, what�s wrong with the step-up law that other smarter countries do? Why do we have to be puritanical bastards? Can�t we see that the 21 law is what causes our kids to be binge drinkers? Binge drinking is all I know thanks to this law. It's mainly due to the fact that I had to drink a shit-load to evaporate any evidence on the rare occasions I got my hands on alcohol before I was 21. Now, I�m stuck in this odd binge drinking habit where I never touch a drop of alcohol for months at a time and then drink excessively when with friends at a bar/private party.

Anyway, here�s me at my half-way point- where I�m so drunk that I can�t taste pepper and my second vodka spiked with sprite tasted like water. Most of my friends thought I was crazy, but they all had a good laugh. Dan�s bro was kind enough to take this wonderful picture.

Can you tell that I�m still drunk? Well, I am. I am very drunk. Man, I have a lot more shit to say, but I think I�ll let it pass as I know it�s all nonsensical drunken ramblings. Wow, what a wonderfully drunken night it has been! Here�s wishing the same unto you in the near future. Cheers!

~Min