Everyone I know is always
making these off-hand jokes
like, “Better watch out, Marissa!
You’re going to be an alcoholic!”
It fucking pisses me off because
sure, I drink a lot of wine but
no one is addressing the real problem!
That I may be
Here’s the thing:
I don’t binge drink.
But I binge snack ALL THE TIME.
AND I DEFINITELY DO IT WHEN I’M SAD.
AND YET EVERYONE’S SOOOOO CONCERNED
WITH MY TOTALLY NORMAL WINE CONSUMPTION
WHEN THAT IS JUST LIKE, ME HAVING SO MUCH FUN.
Am I calling out for help? No. Fuck no. I love snacking. You can fuck yourself if you think you can tell me anything about these leftovers or this block of cheese or this trail mix that I don’t know how it ended up in my house. But whatever, fuck that guy. It’s open, it’s in my house, it’s salty. I’m going to eat it.
And that, by the way, is a very serious rule of being my friend. If you are my friend, you are basically agreeing to 87 pages of an Apple agreement you’ll never read that states that I am by law allowed to eat any of your snacks, in either of our respective homes, per the following:
1. I am allowed to eat any snack in your home that is open.
2. I am allowed to open & eat any snack in your home only if I am stoned, drunk or starving because I am not logical enough in those conditions to be polite & as my friend you have to accept that I only make terrible, selfish decisions when I am drunk/stoned/starving. I can’t help it & you love me anyway.
3. I am allowed to open & eat any snack you leave in my home cause you know I love snacks & you shouldn’t leave your snacks in my home if you don’t want them eaten!
The above rules also apply to wine, whiskey, tequila & all colored rums.
Even vermouth or brandy from Christmas on a bad day.
And vodka, any day.
UMMMMM WE’RE FRIENDS, AREN’T WE?!
OKAY THEN, STOP CALLING YOURSELF”AN ENABLER”.
THAT’S A REALLY UGLY WORD FOR “SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME A LOT”.
JUST PLEASE PASS ME THE SPICY CHEEZ-ITZ
& POUR ME A GLASS OF WHATEVER.
Love you too. ♥ ♥ ♥
[Currently Listening 2 Terri O'Mason, "Cupcakes"]