Incase You Missed Last Night’s Drunk Post


I went out the Saturday night to the Bohemian Biergarten, a very un-Boulder place.

For instance, where else can you belly up to a sausage bar? My favorite mustard is called Heaven.

For instance, where else can you belly up to a sausage bar? A SAUSAGE BAR! My favorite mustard is called Heaven.

At least I think it’s un-Boulder. It isn’t all blonde wood with marble countertops and waiters in white shirts and jeans and serving up raw zucchini hummus. This place has a motherfucking sausage bar. You heard me.

They have a small concert/performance space in the back where I’ve attended some great parties as well as performed.

I’ve been on quite an 80′s kick and last night was no exception. Heather and an Al came over to “get ready” (i.e. start drinking) before we headed over.

photo

The Goonies were playing, as they did at the other 80′s party I went to last week. I guess I’m not the only one on a kick.

I love this band! There is something about the 80s that I love, shades of my youth and all that. The Goonies are the most fun band ever! Ever.

Anyway, I don’t know what got into me but I got LOADED. I must say, I was in extra fine form. I might even give Cowboys and Crossbones a run for her money.

I blame her for everything. She "accidentally" bought me two G&T's. It really was an accident, we were in deep debate over whether two gold hoop earrings makes you gay or simply metro.

I blame her for everything. She bought me two G&Ts but it was an accident. We were so busy trying to determine our hot bartender’s sexual orientation that our order got kind of muddled.

I even drunk posted about it while at the bar but then got cold feet the next morning. Unless you were checking my blog between 11pm and 6am, you won’t have seen it.

Since I drunk texted Pamcakes from the bar, she was up. Thanks to me.

betty

I felt like this picture really needed to be put in more context than, “Heather isn’t into it. But I am!” which is pretty much all there was to the post.

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See? Clearly Heather is not into it. But I am!

I was in fine form, pushing my obnoxiousness to whole new levels.

For instance, I ran around the bar with my camera taking pictures of hot women’s breasts (and I think I let someone feel mine up, but it was purely scientific) and saying, “It’s okay, I’m a world famous blogger!”

Either she bought the World Famous Blogger BS or was just down for anything.

Either she bought the World Famous Blogger BS or was just down for anything.

I was a little irritated by how many young people were there. I got all belligerent and was like, “You are not even 30! Do you find the music of my people quaint?” and then gave the stunned 24 year-old (woman) a lap dance.

Then I punched Al in the chest (affectionately) for no reason and Loony said it was time to leave.

no fun

He was all, IT’S TIME TO GO and I was like NO I’M HAVING FUN and he said, THEN I’M LEAVING WITHOUT YOU and I said GO RIGHT AHEAD and he did and I hung out for exactly five seconds by myself before I chased him down the street.

I suppose he was right, though. It was only a matter of time before someone got sick of my shit.

I was out of my cage last night, oh yes I was.

I tried to get this guy to fight someone. For me! But he wouldn't. Boring.

I tried to get this guy to fight someone. For me! But he wouldn’t. Boring.

But up until that moment, I took pictures in the bathroom of people coming out of the stalls and demanded to know if they were talking or if they were peeing. Like this woman:

Respect

Respect

She was all, “I peed in my leggings and it’s pooling in my boots.” Damn, girl.

I also discovered the best way to force my way through a crowd (and score some free drinks) was to get right in someone’s face and start singing to them while holding their face in my hands.

It scared them and all their friends into submission.

I even drank some woman’s margarita while she watched in confusion.

IMG_0511

Harmy’s thinking, “Do not provoke Viv when she’s drunk. Just smile and pretend you know what’s going on.” Check out the video at 1:40 to see her humoring me in live action.

Harmy went to a Burning Man party next door and stopped by, clearly not having  as much fun as me. I’m holding two shots up to her face in this picture. This is after I accidentally ripped the earring out of her ear.

But she’s okay! I called her the next morning and she didn’t even remember.

And speaking of the morning after, I woke up at 7am and cautiously opened one eye and then the next, waiting for the hurt to settle in.

At first I thought that maybe I was dead because nothing was throbbing or pounding in my head. Could it be that I was not hung over? Will the wonders ever cease?

Heather wasn't so lucky.

Heather wasn’t so lucky, and she didn’t even drink as much as me. I was a fucking immortal last night!

I took that pole class, just to see for sure.

Nina wondered if I was still drunk which would explain my lack of a hangover, but I was able to work on some tricky trix without killing myself so I guess today was my lucky day.

I really hope none of my relatives are reading this post, at least not my in-laws. My dad (hi Dad!) thinks this stuff is hilarious and knows me well enough to not be worried that I am a hard-core alcoholic, but Loony’s family … not so much.

likeyou

They’ve always had their reservations about me and this kind of post doesn’t help my case. If my nieces and nephew are reading: Don’t drink to excess! Be responsible! And for goodness sake, don’t post pictures of your drunken exploits on the internet!

Yer welc’.

12 thoughts on “Incase You Missed Last Night’s Drunk Post

    • It was ridiculously fun! I don’t know how I did the class the next day. Midway through the day my neck got very sore from all the head banging I did the night before.

  1. Jealous! I went out that same night after a 12 hour day and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I’ve been working way too much and probably need a legit party night! Soon!

  2. Pingback: Hug It Out | Vivienne's Process of Elimination

  3. Sounds like a moment to moment replay of any Saturday night from 1988 until 1994 drunk on Rolling Rock in an East Village dive bar. So much ridiculous subversive fun!

    • Girl, it’s all true. I tell no lies. If you could only get over your aversion to alcohol/crowds/parties/fun we could have a good old time. But I love you the way you are and if it’s gotta be chatting on the playground, I’ll take it!

  4. Pingback: The Cat Peed In The Toilet (and other internet mysteries) | Vivienne's Process of Elimination

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