Mon dieu!* I missed a phone call from Vivvy and The Mrs tonight! How did that happen?? Oh, here's why: I have my phone on vibrate. Not for prurient reasons (though they would appreciate that), but because I had a lunch meeting and forgot to change the setting. Nice. I probably missed a delicious boobie conversation! I am sad. I know you only get like one phone call a day from Betty Ford so I am sorry to have missed it. I can only wish that we might exchange pleasantries this weekend when I call you back. I must hear of your Big Apple exploits ASAP!
So speaking of rehab, as you know, the last couple of months I've been riding around on my little wagon feeling all sober and stuff. It's been good, the pounds drop off like nothing when you stop drinking and are crazy exercising. I did the whole cold turkey thing too - if I give any of my vices an inch, they take a mile. But yesterday, as I was having my hallucinogenic coffee downtown, my friend J walks by and pretty much forced me to go next door to the brewery. For beer. Because now that I'm moving, apparently that means that hello, I only have a little time left to cuss/discuss with my peeps and those activities require lubrication. So I shall be giving in a little bit more to temptation in the name of solidarity. I am hoping not to go overboard and get all drunky left/right but such is the state of my vice. As such, last night also involved some red wine and maybe a little dancing was done. This morning I remembered the headaches associated. Good times! The only downside to my little slide was some loose lip action. I might have mentioned to A that she was the topic of a post or 8 on here. And then I had to backtrack a bit because this blog is a little undercover (like, even The Agent knows nothing and she's trained in interrogation techniques) and it was a slippery slope. All because of the booze! You cannot keep secrets when you are drunk, duh.
*I'm currently trying to work this phrase into my life -I need more expressions for being aghast and taken aback by something.
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You cannot keep secrets when you are drunk
And this is the saving grace of your drunk dial. But not even the Agent knows? Oh, wait...I get it. You're saving it up for a big revelation that will escalate into angsty "how COULD you tell the world I love Anne Murray!" recriminations leading up to a hot interrogation scene resplendent with cuffs and fake pistol-whipping.
You? Genius.
Oh well, once again our internet WPP cover is blown. I'm just glad this time, it's not my fault.
p.s. You keep drinking your coffee, sweetie! I'll always be here to talk you down from the proverbial, hallucinogenic ledge.
Sweetie, you know I've been working out the logistics of that Glock fantasy of mine for years! This whole online secret thing is part/parcel in my elaborate plan! I am so close too..the feds get Monday off so this weekend is ripe for the kind of tawdry prurience your ladyfriend enjoys hearing about when she's the one drunk-dialing me! For her sake, wish me luck!
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