When in Doubt...Drink More Beer

A few weeks ago, when T asked me to meet up with her and the infamous former roommate (also known as Jennajawhore, Jennagiraffe, or that girl me and Spliff lived with), I wasn’t too sure that it was a good idea. Not because I wasn’t curious to know how it would go, but because I wondered if it were even possible to get along with someone that I could have easily thrown out of our second floor windows (and once, almost did). And had the pressure of all of that not been enough, throw in a recovering alcoholic (I am not really clear on the details of this situation, but he ordered a beer first, so SO. DID. I.) who is marrying my newly bible toting friend T. This is stressful for several reasons.

1. I don’t go to church and I have a mouth like a sailor. I know that all of this is a surprise. Fuck, sue me.
2. I drink and smoke. More so when I feel uncomfortable.
3. Drinking tends to intensify my bad mouth (in volume as well as frequency of choice words and phrases.)
4. People who carry bibles everywhere tend to freak me out. Even if they are my friends. I feel judged. It makes me uncomfortable. So, I drink and smoke more. And then I say things like, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just spilled my damn beer all over you. Too bad you don’t drink, or I’d totally fucking buy you one.”

Luckily, Jenn still has a worse potty mouth than me and she still drinks and smokes when she gets nervous. And evidently, she was as nervous as I was, so we drank and smoked and talked like sailors together which made for some interesting conversation.

As it turns out, I can (as long as I am not living with her) still have a fantastic time running around like an idiot all over town with Jenn. I can still call her a slob and yell at her for spitting sunflower seeds into my favorite Guiness glass and leaving it in my sink for me to clean (I will get you for that one, hoe bag!) but I also know that, at the end of the day, she’s the same nut job she has always been. And shit, that’s why I liked her to begin with.

And it turns out, I have much more pressing things to worry about like the fact that T is planning to marry a non-tipper. (A NON-TIPPER! That’s just not RIGHT.) Or the fact that there are people in the world who are OFFENDED by The State! These are things that I can’t take. Honestly, man…

The State = Comedy
Not tipping = NOT Comedy

Don’t get me wrong, I still like T’s boy, but she needs to nip this stuff in the bud. Cause, DUDE…If my bartender friend knows he isn’t getting a tip when they come in, then I can’t be seen in public with them, because I don’t want foreign objects or bodily fluids in my food/drink/anywhere in my vicinity.

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