They say that alcohol is a depressant. Then why do people act crazy and vibrant when they drink? I’ll tell you why. Because each of us has a little guy in the front of our head who is supposed to tell us that a lot of the ideas we come up with are stupid. His job is to make us think before we speak, think before we act, think before we become crazy people! And alcohol hits that guy harder and faster than anyone else in your head!
The problem for me is that the little guy in the front of MY head has narcolepsy! He doesn’t even need alcohol to pass out and leave me in the wicked hands of the other wise asses in the back of my head. The guys responsible for a multitude of fashion disasters, bad decisions and dumb relationships over the years.
And that’s what happened yesterday.
Front Guy goes down like one of those wiener dogs in the old psychology films and The Weisenheimers instantly start weaving their little web of destruction.....
“Girrrrrrrrllllllllllll ... you look good! You should throw on some Daisy Dukes and a tube top and go outside to get some sun!”
“But I don’t have any Daisy Dukes nor a tube top”, words I instantly regretted! Fearing a trip to the nearest Forever 21, I conceded to tucking some old gym shorts up into my big girls and pulling down the straps of my tank top.
“Girrrrrrllllllllll (that’s how The Weisenheimers talk to me!) ... you need to get tan faster!” So they forced me to mix up a little cocktail of baby oil and bug spray and plopped me down on the deck.
The sun did feel good! I have been sick and depressed for the last couple of weeks and the sun wrapped around me like a soft sheet fresh out of the drier.... mmmmmmmmm ......
Just as my eyes grew very heavy and the Front Guy was still sawing logs, The Weisenheimers whisper in my ear, “you know who else would be good at this little soiree?”
"Captain Morgan, that’s who!"
Well, I did have to agree, nothing goes better with the smell of baby oil and burning flesh than a little spiced rum!
And so my day went on .... it didn’t get better from there, either! Even though my Front Guy doesn’t need alcohol to pass out, The Weisenheimers are opportunists and they give him alcohol to ensure he doesn’t wake up in the middle of their malicious attacks on my good senses!
They are the ones who convince me to dress up like a fool, slather baby oil all over my body, make me drink hard alcohol, suggest I rearrange the rocks on the water fall between the koi ponds, ohhhhhhh - and perhaps a concert would be fun .... !!!
So, this morning Front Guy woke up and he was pissed!!! He has been kicking the wall (aka, my skull) for a couple of hours now and that feels just great as a complement to my glowing sunburn!
I just hope he stays awake today!