It isn't always best to make decisions when you're alone and drinking. The leading cause of foolishness and What-The-Fuck-Just-Happened is often the combination of loneliness and alcohol. Loneliness alone is responsible for almost 85% of bad decisions -- "I've never microwaved a box of firecrackers before.... OH DEAR GOD!" -- but combining it with alcohol results in any variety of the plethora of myriad ways in which a drunk lonely person can screw him/herself over.
For instance, all drunken hookups stemming from booty calls begin with boozy isolation. Even standing in a crowd, knowing all too well the seemingly infinite empty that awaits you at home, can result in the misperceived good idea:
"I should call {whoever} just to say hi... Hey. S'up. What are you doin' right now?" From there it's only a matter of impending sobriety till an awkward goodbye the next day leads to I-Can't-Wash-The-Fucking-Shame-Off. Because, let's face it, no matter how good the sex, a booty call is never with the person you want to be fucking. It's just a set of genitals you've got on speed dial connected to someone without enough self respect to say, "Fuck off," at three in the morning.
In another example, pets suddenly become the subject of phone videos and pictures. Often just trying to sleep, cats get assailed by camera clicking owners, drunk on beer, wine, and the awful nothing in their lives; dogs find themselves wearing shameful (though occasionally cute) costumes; and always the blatant attempts to elicit cutesy meows, woofs, and all manner of animal noises by jabbering drunkenly at a critter... whose eyes slowly fill with the dawning realization, "You don't need thumbs to kill yourself." The overall point being: pets may mitigate loneliness, but they then suffer from lonely owners. And the effect of animal related drunk-lonely decision making is mobile. Once the brain is sufficiently saturated with alcohol even leaving the center of one's isolation is no safe guard against bad choices. I once had to save a roommate at the zoo, explaining the whole time, "The polar bear is not waving at you. It's plotting to kill you."
The reason for all these errors in judgment is a direct result of the fact loneliness often leads to boredom, boredom to depression, and depression to drinking. Any one of these alone is sufficient cause to stop thinking as you won't make a right call the rest of the evening. However, the witch's brew these concoct together has long been the cause of many
disturbing self revealing acts. From the booty call to its awkward cousin, Experimental Masturbation, drunk'n'lonely is the glaring eye of self discovery many avoid but few can hide from.
Such considerations then begging the obvious: perhaps we should all experience our own extended drunk'n'lonely
moment. The acerbic inner view might be of some benefit.
With that in mind, I advise everyone to get an excess of your favorite booze, clear some time in your calendar then sit down, start drinking, and stare at the walls. It won't be long before you're making decisions which will cause you to ponder, "Is this who I am?"
{coming soon: How I Spent My Drunk'N'Lonely Evening}
For instance, all drunken hookups stemming from booty calls begin with boozy isolation. Even standing in a crowd, knowing all too well the seemingly infinite empty that awaits you at home, can result in the misperceived good idea:
"I should call {whoever} just to say hi... Hey. S'up. What are you doin' right now?" From there it's only a matter of impending sobriety till an awkward goodbye the next day leads to I-Can't-Wash-The-Fucking-Shame-Off. Because, let's face it, no matter how good the sex, a booty call is never with the person you want to be fucking. It's just a set of genitals you've got on speed dial connected to someone without enough self respect to say, "Fuck off," at three in the morning.
In another example, pets suddenly become the subject of phone videos and pictures. Often just trying to sleep, cats get assailed by camera clicking owners, drunk on beer, wine, and the awful nothing in their lives; dogs find themselves wearing shameful (though occasionally cute) costumes; and always the blatant attempts to elicit cutesy meows, woofs, and all manner of animal noises by jabbering drunkenly at a critter... whose eyes slowly fill with the dawning realization, "You don't need thumbs to kill yourself." The overall point being: pets may mitigate loneliness, but they then suffer from lonely owners. And the effect of animal related drunk-lonely decision making is mobile. Once the brain is sufficiently saturated with alcohol even leaving the center of one's isolation is no safe guard against bad choices. I once had to save a roommate at the zoo, explaining the whole time, "The polar bear is not waving at you. It's plotting to kill you."
The reason for all these errors in judgment is a direct result of the fact loneliness often leads to boredom, boredom to depression, and depression to drinking. Any one of these alone is sufficient cause to stop thinking as you won't make a right call the rest of the evening. However, the witch's brew these concoct together has long been the cause of many
disturbing self revealing acts. From the booty call to its awkward cousin, Experimental Masturbation, drunk'n'lonely is the glaring eye of self discovery many avoid but few can hide from.
Such considerations then begging the obvious: perhaps we should all experience our own extended drunk'n'lonely
moment. The acerbic inner view might be of some benefit.
With that in mind, I advise everyone to get an excess of your favorite booze, clear some time in your calendar then sit down, start drinking, and stare at the walls. It won't be long before you're making decisions which will cause you to ponder, "Is this who I am?"
{coming soon: How I Spent My Drunk'N'Lonely Evening}
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