once upon a time, there was a boy named john. john would routinely do dumb and inappropriate things while he was out. john is also a fan of buying horribly cheap liquor and mixing it with soda pop.
this way, john assumed he could still drink and not afford any of those pricier brands which were way overpriced.
unfortunately, john knew the difference between a $5 bottle of bourbon and a $40 glass of scotch.
one night, john went out with a evil high school friend of his. the evil high school friend kept feeding john what he assured him were whiskey and cokes. they were clear. they were what normal people call “vodka sodas.”
because they were made with vodka. and a splash of soda.
john hates vodka.
john wound up losing his sense of self, his body and where he was. when he woke up, john was sucking face with a large asian woman in the back of some irish bar on second aveue.
john rushed back to his dorm, for he was a lowly college student at the time. stumbling and fumbling his way to the room, he began undressing in the hallway. he felt sick and dirty. confused and utterly smashed. his roommate found him at the same time and said,
“john, are you ok?”
john grunted and made motions to open the door before bad things happened.
john stumbled inside and did bad things to the toilet.
he then fell onto his bed, partially clothed like some sad love-child of chris farley and bukowski. burping and groaning.
“do you need something?”
john grunted. he grabbed a trash can near his bed and proceeded to do more bad things. he then fell over and said three words.
“snapple and paper towels.”
and then passed out.
the next morning, john awoke to find a roll of paper towels next to him and a cran-icea tea snapple! he was still groggy, so it took a few moments before he realized the kind thing his roommate had done. of course, the roommate actually took john’s wallet and bought snapple, paper towels and a few more things for himself. but the thought was still there.
and so, whenever john would feel ill the next day or like he was going to have a bad night, he would always ask someone to bring him snapple and paper towels.
that said, for the love of christ, someone send me snapple and paper towels. me get snapple. international bar gets the paper towels. sigh.
This is, in a small way, towards the end, a review of my birthday party. i think it went well!
it went very well.
that said, i made out with no large asian women at the birthday party. i did talk to jeremiah kipp before vomiting onto a door.
emily gould has nothing on film writer/blogger shin-digs.
p.s. it was an awesome birthday. aside from me vomiting onto a door.
p.p.s. east village bar owners: if i vomit on your door, this is a sign of good luck. believe me. for i am the post-human jesus of bars.