Margarita Monday

Margarita Mondays are my favorite. For $2, you're served the stiffest margarita known to humankind! Granted, that's hyperbole, but they're amazing. I always have a good time, but tonight is especially wonderful. Jenna, freshly arrived from Japan, tells me about hilarious Engrish things she's seen like a crunchy crunky candy bar. Our waiter, who has a week-old baby (that makes me think of a weak, old baby, the latter adjective not making sense) keeps joking that she's beautiful and clearly not his kid. Alas, he muses that it's already in his home, so he's keeping it. Awesomely, I think he wants to be the legitimate father of Kat's child, considering he brings her three free drinks. While she intends to leave after one to work on her thesis, her plans are obviously changed. That's some sweet karma for the individual who came over and got me drunk on Friday while I stayed up all night typing a draft of a chapter of my thesis. According to my professor, much to my surprise, it turned out great. The only other time I've written something academic while drinking was the Flava Flav section of my undergraduate thesis, which didn't impress Kline at any rate.

But I digress too much from Magarita Monday. I leave Nikki's sister two inappropriate voicemails after learning that she is now "terrified" of me yet still "oddly compelled." That sounds about right. I let her know that I understand she has a wedding to attend, but asked what she's going to be doing five minutes after the ceremony. I'll let you all know if I hear back. The biggest mistake I make on the phone, however, is when someone is on speaker phone with an autistic relative. I whisper into Wes's ear that said relative is "acoustic." Then, realizing my mistake, I laugh and scream "autistic!" loud enough so said relative can hear. I'm telling you, the margaritas do not aid in discretion.

Earlier in the evening, Michael Michael received his insurance package in the mail. "Now we can go out drunk driving!" he cheered. No one laughed. "Sounds like you need some humor insurance!" I tried, which after a delayed reaction, got big chuckles from Amber. But let's be honest: a joke like that just goes to show that I need similar coverage. Still, I'm not as bad as MM (Michael Michael) because at MM (Margarita Mondays), I discover that he will laugh at my joke if I say it a fourth time. In this tipsy state, I can't recall what I'm saying exactly, but after three times met by mild amusement, Michael Michael roars at the fourth attempt. On Saturday night, I muttered to myself the line from Arrested Development, "Meet my new boyfriend - the homeless guy" three times. It didn't go over well, then, but I want to test my four-and-floor (repeat a joke four times, and Michael Michael will collapse in laughter) hypothesis. "Meet my new boyfriend - the homeless guy," I say, and indeed, on this fourth occasion, Michael Michael doubles over.

At some point, someone (and for once it's not me) brought up dendrophilia, which is a sexual attraction to trees. I want to make it clear that while I do enjoy a go with a tree from time to time, being a dendrophiliac does not mean I will do it with just any tree. In fact, I find that most trees tend to just lie there.

After paying the bill, Christine realizes she's been sitting on a menu the whole time. I decide that that's what we call a Mexican booster seat.

Upon arriving home, our housemates are giddy. Six people and one cute dog dance party it up. Listening to Avril Lavigne, a lot of Polyphonic Spree, Ray Charles, and the Real McCoy, we run in circles like crazy people, jumping and thrusting for a full hour. I have not had this good of a time in ages.

Now we've sat down to watch the series finale of Six Feet Under. When I first watched it a couple of months ago, I sobbed uncontrollably, so I'm just waiting for the waterworks to start with my housemates. I'm still drunk and am ready to pass out, but this has been the best night ever. I'm not sure this is the best post ever, as I've just been happily rambling, but this is live blogging for you.