Overthunk

Recently, due to Arctic Blast 2007 (i.e. a quarter-inch of sleet upon these Dallas roadways), a much-anticipated night of drinking, fooling around and Sopranos was nixed. Did I sulk? Well, hell yes, I did. And then I did some more. But after that, pouting began to bore me and I hit upon a mission: I was gonna make a goddamn sock monkey. Why the flip did this occur to me? Well, I'd talked it up for many years, seeing as how my grandmother gave me one when I was six or seven and it was subsequently so cherished and frequently hugged that the tail developed a hole at the end. As it turns out, my friends listen to me on occasion, so I was gifted with this kit at Christmastime this year. Though my original hosiery simian was far more tricked out than this one, with a red gingham dress and hat that had lace trim, this nostalgia-fueled, red felt vested ape would do nicely on a blustery, pissy winter's night . Besides, the original mon-chi-chi was lost. Generally speaking, I'm n...

Agape at the selection of vodkas at the Centennial package store in a rather seedy part of town, I stood wavering between Grey Goose and Boru, when up sauntered a 6'5" Sam Elliot lookalike in a black fringed leather cowboy jacket, black boots and a grey Stetson. "Buy the cheap stuff, darlin'," he drawled. "It all works the same." And with that, he grabbed a bottle of Stoli off the middling shelf, paid, and for all I know, saddled up and rode away.

Understandably, my heritage is a source of great pride. I got Irish blood from my mom. And addictive tendencies from my dad. So don't ask me, "A, WHYYY do ya DRINK? WHYY do you roll smoke? WHYY must you liiive out the soongs that you WROTE? Over and over, everybody made my predictions. But if I get stoned and sing ALL night long, it's a... family tradition." Alright, I'm done plugging Hank J now.

Allllright, I'm going to sound like a prude and I'm really not at ALL but what's with the inappropriate sexual overtones in seemingly inane food commercials ? OBserve: 1. Chunky Soup -- FILLS YOU UP RIGHT Watch beefy footballmen cavort as they talk about "soup." As a sage named Robert Plant used to say, "I'm gonna give you every inch of my spoon, I'm gonna give you my... broth!!" Or something like that. 2. Dr. Pepper -- STACY'S MOM HAS GOT IT GOING ON Take an already sexually sketchy Fountains of Wayne song and pair it with images of a cadre of post-soccer-game adolescent males lusting for a refreshing beverage (or for Stacy's mom, dressed in pert yellow and teasing them with the slow-roll open of the minivan door, revealing icy DP goodness waiting just inside. (Yes, pun intended, thanks for asking.) Either someone didn't get it, or someone very much did. However, these pseudooffensive food peddlings on...

(BTW, I fucking hate George Thorogood. And the Destroyers.) (Why the hell did I think he was dead? Turns out he isn't.) Anyway, I do drink alone. But every time I tell someone that, they gasp to themselves and think it's something horrible. I also drive my car alone, try on ridiculous bras alone, do breast self-examinations alone, clean my garage alone.... when you live with only your roommate and your dog, you do lots of things alone. So if I come home and feel like having wine with dinner, guess what I do? I have some. I don't call 15 friends to see if someone can come over to keep me from falling into an alcoholic abyss. Besides, I'm not REALLY alone... my pug's always home and he could run for help if needed. Long as he didn't drink too much of the beer that spilled on the floor when I keeled over (that last bit was of course, a fictional account). Crap, I have a bigger problem with eating cookies than I do drinking, and I do that alone LO...