Wine, with a Side of Games

Saturday night was the first time ever that Henry and I hung out with Tommy and Jessy sans Chooch. It was a fucking miracle, really. But we left him at home with Henry’s mom, who likely regaled him with tales of alleyway hookers and god only knows what else, while we went off to try and remember what it’s like to hang out with other adults while drinking alcohol.

Or, in Henry’s case: he needed to try to (quickly) remember how to babysit me while we hang out with other adults (one of whom is just as immature as me) while drinking alcohol. In all fairness, I do not remember most of what happened that night, but I do know that Henry had me so concerned about it that I texted both Jessy and Tommy to preemptively apologize just in case it ever comes up in the future.

(They both said I was fine, so fuck you, Henry.)

I love that the meat was placed right next to me.

We hadn’t been there for more than 5 minutes before I had a gigantic glass of wine on my hand, courtesy of Tommy, so by the time Jessy pulled out Quelf and started reading the directions, I was already in a giggly trance. I do, however, remember Tommy saying that all the directions said were “Draw a card. Make fun of Erin.”

Henry had to wear a bib and then snort like a pig instead of laughing. Since Henry rarely laughs unless he’s watching Blue Collar Comedy (a lie, but you’d think it would be true, right?), there really wasn’t too much barnyard bacchanalia happening; but when he did snort, it was fucking outstanding. Since I had already gurgled a good full bottle of wine by the time Henry drew this card, I did not react with the appropriate level of hilarity. Instead, I turned into a giddy 8-year-old on a swingset with a limp-wristed hold of her motor skills and inadvertently kicked Tommy in the shins about 17 times in a row.

Sorry, Tommy.

This was pretty much how I looked too every time I had to read a card. Tommy served me a bottomless glass of wine. I don’t know how I didn’t puke everywhere or completely black out, but there are big chunks of the night that Henry was telling me about which I swear I wasn’t a part of. Like, I don’t remember Jessy purposely making her face up like Mimi until the next day when she posted a picture on Facebook.

Ballerina Tommy.

Pretending he can read.

I think Tommy’s expression mirrored my own at that point.

Henry had to wear lipstick as one of his punishments, like that’s even a stretch for him. He was pretty much like, “Oh thank God this is all I have to do for once.”

My favorite thing that Jessy had to do was stand in a corner and repeatedly say “Thank you sir, may I have another?” repeatedly, over top of the cacophony the rest of us were creating during our own turns.

Quelf is fucking ridiculous.

Tommy was drumming with tampons, but I can’t remember why.

Of course most of my challenges required me to sing and dance. It’s a good thing I suck at both, otehrwise it probably wouldn’t have been very funny for those jerks.

I just kept glugging away. Thanks, Tommy.

I don’t even need liquored up to act a fool, so I can only imagine how obnoxious I was being.

Oh wait, I don’t have to imagine, since I have Henry to remind me over and over again.

I wasn’t sure if I was just randomly wearing this bowl as a helmet or if I was told to. I guess Quelf told me to so I did it. The bridge of my nose hurt the next day which made me remember the bowl slipping down my face a number of times.

I was about to pass out on their couch after somehow ending up outside, which was about the time Henry gripped me by the elbow and asked, “You ready?” but what he meant by that was, “I’m taking your drunk ass home before your set their house on fire, asshole.”

The next day, Henry made some comment on Facebook about how “it’s always a fun night when you have two drunk people and you’re sober.” Except he spelled it “your.”

Can’t wait to do this shit again, you guys!