Drunk Bitches

In my vast and extensive experience with parties and alcohol I’ve noticed that 99.64% of women when they drink take on a persona known as the drunk bitch.  New years eve was a demonstration of this on a new level for me.  Of course most of the typical drunk bitch types were there.

I was there and for me the state of drunk bitchiness includes the strong desire to dance very bouncily, cuddle, laugh, and raise my voice to levels that can be heard three rooms away.  New years eve 2008 specifically included me touching the pleather pants of the most fabulously dressed girl in the room.  It was ok, though, because I was invited and urged to by my husband.  Why would he want me to do that?  In general, in my case, if the drinking continues I have also been known to tell everyone in the room that I love them, loudly say “OH MY GOD!! ME TOO!” and text or call friends that usually don’t answer.   Heaven forbid it should escalate to the crying.  Oh the crying.  This is always when I apologize to my poor husband for making him endure me in this state.  I apologize to him for things I didn’t even do.  I cry and cry and cry and then sleep.  I am very thankful that this is as bad as I get (I think).  He says I’ve never embarrassed him except for the times I’ve tried to force him to dance against his will.   As special and beautiful as I feel when I have achieved the aforementioned early drunk bitch stages, I know I’m not unique in my drunken ways.  I’m simply lucky to be a happy, lovey-dovey drunk.

I’ve seen others that are not so lucky.  Exotic dancing goddesses are interesting.  Their hands seem to always be in the air or on their foreheads.  They believe that everyone in the room wants to be them or touch them or dance with them.  This variety is not so unlucky unless they start wanting to simulate goddess sex rituals with unwilling participants in the middle of the dance floor that is often located in the party host’s living room.  There are bitches who have the very strong desire to remove clothing (theirs or anyone else’s).   I’ve never understood why, for some bitches, the clothing seems to migrate off of them in a completely unintentional way.  They show ass crack, shoulder, bra strap all night long without seeming to realize it.

Some of the most unlucky bitches are the scary ones.  These are the those bitches who yell, those who need to say fuck (completely different from the fuck-you variety), and start inevitably to swing at the very people that are trying to stop them from humiliating themselves.  I used to think that these were the most unlucky but I discovered a new drunk bitch low this new years eve.  This poor girl made me feel so sad.  She is unlucky enough to be the one who can be seen laying on the floor with a bucket next to her in most of my pics from that night.  The worst part of this is that the bucket was used in front of most of the party goers.  I knew (from Sex in the City…my source for all things chic and worldly) that this type of thing did happen but I had never seen it laid out in front of me.   I held her hair while it happened because that’s just the type of drunk bitch I am.  Everyone three rooms away did also get to hear of my vast experience with vomiting women.  I have no idea what happened to her.  As we were kicked out of the house by the poor pregnant host she still was laying there making me feel grateful for the type of drunk bitch I am.  Happy new year to all the drunk bitches out there.  May we all keep our clothes on in 2009 (until we get home anyway).

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