Because I promise that this will be one of those "take the day off" holidays you love so much.

MySpace Countdown Clocks

Common ways "International Whiskeymarie Day" is celebrated around the world:

• In Canada, celebrants will host a dinner for the local hobos where they will serve Poutine, Nachos and Chili. Then, shots of Canadian whiskey are passed around until one or more fights break out amongst the guests. If guests are not in a fighting mood, dollar bills are thrown into a dirt pit to encourage things. At midnight, illegal fireworks are set off. If no one loses an eye, the next year will be prosperous. If an eye is lost, all attendees are encouraged to live like an animal in the woods until the "year of dispair" is over.
• In Brazil, IWD is observed through a solemn ceremony where everyone gathers in a circle and sings Air Supply songs, then a vow of "no pants" is taken. When seven Sundays have passed, then pants may be worn again.
• In Sweden, the day is marked by people of all ages drinking rhubarbtinis from sunup to sundown, ending the day by throwing up in the ceremonial "barf vessel" which is usually hand-crafted from the finest paper mache' and passed down from generation to generation.
  
• The French refuse to acknowledge IWD ever since Whiskeymarie brought her own box of wine to the Mime Festival and started what later became known as "Le Franzia Riots de Doritos aux Battle Royale".
  
• Germans really whoop it up, marking the day with a stern nod towards one another. It truly is magical.
  
• The Chinese kick off the festivities by taking their 2-minute lunch break in their 18-hour workday to do a little "happy wiggle butt dance" while eating the traditional meal of "Orange Macaroni Gai Pan", the ingredients of which vary from provence to provence, but always include barbequed pork and those little baby corns that are so darn cute.
  

While celebrated enthusiastically and widely throughout the world, IWD is a relatively new holiday here in the US.
Officials from the VonPartypants Campaign for International Awesome Day are asking for suggestions as to how to "officially" celebrate. How best to celebrate the birth of a hero? How best to mark the day that the one who would finally stand up and say "I won't wear pants if I don't feel like it or if I accidentally lose them, dammit!" was born? How best to honor a legend in her own mind?

Please send suggestions in a 7.46" x 23.583333" envelope, along with $6.99 to cover the cost of cheap chardonnay and a bag of skittles to:

IWD Suggestions
6969 Underpants Crossing, Suite 3.14159
Pootertoot City, MN
90219

Send all suggestions "Attention Douchebags" or just cover the outside with Dorito dust- it'll get to the right place.

I blame the cheese.

Warning! Grossness ahead! For realsies!
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Told you so.

Kids, learn from my mistakes: Don't attempt cutting the cheese (literally, and I guess figuratively too) whilst drunkety drunk drunk.
Yes, I cut through my fingernail. Yes, I shaved off a good chunk of the tip. Yes, I am as coordinated as a one-armed, blindfolded monkey on roller skates. Yes, I am a culinary "professional". Yes, I am an idiot.

Goo in my eye, and you're to blame- honey you give crackheads a bad name...

My day, every day for the last week:

• 9:00-ish: wake up, wonder why I can't open my eyes, realize it's because they are crusted over with some sort of sticky yet crunchy goo. Pick enough goo from eyes so that I may open them and not accidentally use one of the cats for a towel (again) in my blind confusion.
• 9:10- Take the first benadryl of the day, use a crowbar to pry eyelids up to put allergy eyedrops in, go back to bed to wait for it all to "kick in".
  
• 9:30- Benadryl not working yet, start scratching at face and eyeballs like a crackhead with ADHD.
  
• 9:45- second round of eyedrops (hey- it says on the bottle "up to four times daily", it doesn't say that you can't do all four at once), toss in a Zyrtec for good measure. Look around bathroom to see if the prescription narcotics fairy came last night, find nothing under my toothbrush- again.
  
• 9:50- back in bed, still rubbing at my eyes, hoping I don't end up looking like I suffer from alopecia due to extreme eyelash loss.
  
• 9:55- Take another 1/2 Benadryl- chew it up before swallowing to speed things up. Examine my pink teeth in the mirror.
  
• 9:56- Pee while the cats weave around my legs and occasionally try and peek in the back of the bowl to see what is going on.
  
• 9:58- Feed cats, sit on kitchen floor and wonder why I'm so.....sleeeeepppyyyyy...
• 10:00- Lay in bed with a cold washcloth on my eyes and kleenex stuffed up my nose.
• 10:01- Realize it's Earth Day, shake fist in the air angrily while cursing Mother Nature for inventing pollen and dust. I think she's still pissed off at us for the whole "Exxon Valdez oil spill" thing. Christ lady- get over it already!
  
• 10:08- Look in mirror, wonder why I didn't wake up last night when someone was apparently beating my face with a hammer.
  

• 10:30- Put on mittens and a hockey mask to prevent scratching.
• 10:55- Drugs kicking in, become unable to remove myself from the couch & unable to move to change the channel so I am forced to watch the Today Show with Kathie & Hoda. As I sit there I mentally sew Kathie Lee's mouth shut and pray for a Shamwow! commercial as it would be infinitely less annoying.
  
• 11:10- Slowly I extricate myself from the couch- it makes a popping noise when I finally pull free. Go to kitchen and start mainlining caffeine.
  
• 11:20 and beyond- Go about the rest of my day in a haze- randomly popping pills, dropping eyedrops and snorting crushed up Claritin off of a mirror with a hundred dollar bill.
  

Tomorrow, repeat.

Happy Wednesday, my crusty, sniffly blobs of eye goo. Happy Wednesday.

XO
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Even though they're free, I'm still going to have to pass.

Yet another shining example of basic human stupidity, taken on one of my lovely walks around my fair city:
With how bad my allergies are right now, I'm pretty sure I've reached my "buger" quota for the day, but thanks anyways, Buger King.
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I only let him touch my boobs because I was loopy on wine coolers.

My half-man/half-simian friend Monkey sent this to me today with the note: "This made me think of you and your posts about your dating years."

From The Onion:

Your High School Boyfriend Still Smoking Cigarettes In The Field Behind School

March 31, 2009

THE BALL FIELDS—According to witnesses at your old high school, the guy you let touch your boobs after the Queensrÿche concert still takes off shortly before lunch every day to sneak a smoke behind the dugouts. Although he can no longer fit into the filthy army jacket that used to impress you, sources confirmed that the paunchy, middle-aged man clumsily rolling his own Bali Shag cigarettes and hassling passing freshman is in fact the same boyfriend you defended to your mother almost two decades ago. It was not immediately apparent whether the 40-year-old claims adjuster is still trying to cheat on you with Jessica Ruffino.

This? Does not surprise me at all.

Though, truth be told, I don't think any of my exes are claims adjusters. The few I know of are currently working as (careers in no particular order):

• Corporate lackey
• Pastry chef
• Recluse
• Music producer/sound man
• Delivery driver
• Career criminal (s)
• Unemployed
• Barfly
• Business owner
• Actor
• Retail worker
• Lawyer

I guess no one can say I wasn't an equal-opportunity dater. I suspect that if I hadn't gotten married that I would have eventually added: Divorcee' (of the Kirk VanHouten variety), Recovering meth addict (he would eventually steal my credit cards and charge a used Camaro on them), Lottery winner, Ex-President of the Dungeons & Dragons fanclub, Clive Owen, Siamese twin brothers and an aging rock star (too much tequila) to the list.

Happy Friday, my boots-knockin', hand-holdin', smoochin' piles of boyfriendy goodness. Happy Friday.

XO

Sasquatch, miniature pigs and other oddities.

A random collection of photos from my last few days, lest you think that I only exist in computer form, much like Kitt from Knight Rider but with an unhealthy addiction to LOLCats and internet book shopping.

I had run into my blogger girl Christa accidentally twice already, and as I was attempting a planned journey to Duluth I thought I'd also attempt a planned run-in with her and our "now privately blogging" girl Banana. We met up at the world-famous RT Quinlan's bar in lovely downtown Duluth and proceeded to submerge ourselves in light beer and stories of days of yore.

Banana showed up cute as a motherfucking bug, tipsy and funny from a family b-day gathering. We all talked, we drank, we gathered the usual bunch of characters and had a blurry, funny, awesome time. I love love love these girls.

Here is a pic I stole from Christa of me & Banana at Quinlan's- note the nudie boobie pic in the background. That has been at Quinlan's as long as I can remember.

When I went to st. Louis to visit Gwennie, our drunken debauchery on my last night there almost caused me to miss my plane home. In my flailing, retarded, "speed-packing" I left a ton of stuff at her house, which she was then forced to either mail to me or give to the hobos. Lucky for me, she chose the wonderful US Postal service to handle my delicates.

Imagine my surprise when I found this little lovely in the mountain of Gwen's shredded bank statements (let me say that it took FOREVER to tape those suckers back together!).

My heart skipped a beat...


...FERNANDO!!!!!!



Oh, how I missed his smoky, bacony manliness. I'm not sure what adventures we'll be going on as I'm still working on finding out if he's still got that warrant out in Florida, but as soon as I do you can bet we'll be up to no good. And I may or may not have made out with him after washing him thoroughly. Lord knows where that little porker has been, you know.

Oh, and Pooter may or may not have made out with him as well. She's such a whore, that little pussy.


And, because I can't post pictures without at least two pictures of my furry turdlets, here is Pooter on top of the fridge, mocking my smileyface bowl thingy.


And finally- the icing on the cake, the cherry on my sundae, the bedazzler to my acid-washed denim jacket...

...a picture I took walking to work the other day. What is this, you ask? I'll tell you what it is- it's a big, hairy dude passed out in the grass with a big, hairy lady passed out ON TOP OF HIM. I would have taken a closer pic, but I was worried that they'd wake up and go all drunk Sasquatch on my ass. (Just click the pic for a closer view...)


You're very, very welcome.

Happy Tuesday, my liquored-up, porky mugs of Miller Lite. Happy Tuesday.

XO

Sad.

My cold, hard heart is breaking for my girl Gorillabuns who lost her newborn baby boy this weekend, so I'm going to lay off the crazy today.

Go there and send her a little love- if anyone in our little blog world needs a kind word today, it's her.

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And on a completely unrelated note- if you haven't seen the results of the St. Paul Pioneer Press Peeps diorama contest, go take a peep. Er...peek.

Holidays that I would be completely indifferent to if they didn't involve pork .

As it seems that Easter and cured pork products are as much of a perfect pairing as hangovers and fried food, today I had a ham sandwich and Easter candy for lunch.

Odd religious holidays with even odder mascots/spokespersons/candy-related rituals: 1
My cholesterol: 0

Even Trouble was caught up in the spirit of things.

Happy Sunday, my fluffy, chocolate coated morsels of hammy goodness. Happy Sunday.

What the hell is wrong with me? Wait- don't answer that.

I think I need an intervention- I seriously want to get one of these:
(click for details)

It's a slippery slope...

Meow.

You can take that picture of me off the milk cartons...for now.

I know what you're thinking- "Where did that silly twat Whiskey disappear off to? Was she abducted by a midget nudist cult? Did she get lost on the way to purchase replacement parts for her tricycle? Did she accidentally get trapped in the washing machine...again?"

Happily, the answers (this time, anyways) are no, no and yes- but only for an hour or two until I sobered up and figured out I wasn't in a spaceship.

A brief summary of how I've been, what I've been up to, and the ridiculous things I sometimes do to fill my time. I've arranged them in that "bullet form" that I've been hearing so much about on the world wide interwebs these days.

• I went back to work this week after a 2.5 week break. Let me just say that a two point five week break does nothing for a person to make them want to go back to the grind. The schedule I had so finely tuned over break (sleep, sloth, internet shopping, nappy time, cat snuggling and more internet shopping) seems to conflict with the "expectations" my "employer" has as far as "work" is concerned. While I am eternally grateful that someone is willing to pay me to be my fabulous self, i'm wondering if I can't work out some sort of arrangement with our local lottery officials. I'll keep you posted.
  
• I did the whole "winter/spring clothing swap" last night- I packed away all the warm stuff like my monkey hair sweaters and my ovary scarves, then I unpacked my hiking thongs and dolphin skin sandals. In a continuing effort to beat my soul silly and crush my hopes and dreams into a gooey pulp, the Universe saw fit to have me wake up to a nice blanket of snow this morning. Fuck it, I'm still wearing my bedazzled hotpants and rainbow tube top- I guess I'll just have to wear a giant down parka over the whole ensemble for a few days.
  
• We went to "I Love You, Man" Friday night. Loved this movie- yes, I know it's the same people doing the same things they always do, but holy hell it was funny and that's all I care about. As the trailers were running and just as the movie started, two girls right next to me were TALKING REALLY LOUD AND GOSSIPING ABOUT THAT GIRL, YOU KNOW- THAT GIRL IN OUR LAB CLASS THAT KNOWS THAT GUY THAT KNOWS YOUR BROTHER...blah, blah, blah. I could tell everyone around us was wanting to tell them to shut the hell up, but being that this is "nice" MN and we were upstairs at the Grandview which is a REALLY small theater, no one said boo. But I'm not "nice" like other people, so when the one girl turned to say something else totally pointless and interesting only to people who think Jessica Simpson is a good actress, I looked right at her and gave her a loud and obnoxious "SSSSSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!". She looked pissed, whispered something to her friend, then they got up and left. I was happy until a group of latecomers took their place and the girl who sat next to me had breath so amazingly foul and potent (think: not brushing your teeth for a week- the very same week you go on an "all cool ranch dorito, burnt coffee and black licorice diet" foul). Every time I dared to turn my head ever so slightly to the left, I was punched in the face with corpse breath. Dude, your friends suck if they aren't informing you of this fact- get new ones immediately.
  
• My sixth-grade "boyfriend" sent me a friend request on Facebook this week. He seems to have blossomed into his own and is no longer into acid-washed jeans. I accepted is request.
  
• We spontaneously purchased a super-retro shelving/storage unit for the dining room today- it has smoked glass and chrome, a la "70's cocaine den/key party room". Pictures to follow as we spent a retarded amount of money on it (retarded for us, anyways) and need to get some mileage out of it. Other than totally gutting and re-doing our serial killer-esque second bathroom and getting carpet installed in a few rooms, "Operation Fix This Fucking House" is nicely on track once more. Well, at least until I have to put on my wig start working the corner to pay for it...again.
  
• Beyond that, and in no particular order: Wine, Frenchy food (and by default, delicious Frenchy cheese, Seattle John- in case you were wondering), getting my first giant poppable zit in a year on my chin, awesome 2-bloody mary brunch including piggies in the blanket and cheesy potatoes with my pals Blondie and Pious Prius at the Triple Rock with our favorite tattooed-face waitress, plucking random hairs, more episodes of American Chopper, homemade pizza, playing dress up with my summer clothes, scooping cat turds out of the litter box, a tiny bit of work stuff, falling asleep on the couch and waking up at 3:00 AM with a cat sleeping on my crotch, taking a bath so hot I worried that I cooked my eggs, cleaning house, getting a visit from the Jahovas Witness that seems hell-bent on "saving" me despite my having informed him that I am devoutly athiest who I humor because I like his moxie, about 47 loads of laundry...

• ...and just getting outside when it was nice this past week, smiling at the sunshine and anyone passing by, going for a walk and being ridiculously grateful for my awesome, flawed, blessed, often stupid, full of great people, somewhat charmed even when it's somewhat cursed, funny, honest, happy, lazy, gooey, brilliant, retarded, busy, slothful and wonderful, wonderful life.
  

I guess that today I'm in a rare mood and just content to be me.

Happy Sunday, my stinky-breath, furry Facebook friends. Happy, happy Sunday.

XO