Too Much Info

Who cares if beer is only 135 calories, or a glass of red wine is 125 calories or a shot of tequila is only 53 calories?

Our government is becoming expert at avoidance. Rather than deal with the real problems facing our country, our so called leaders want to put nutrition labels on booze. Give me a break!

Who drinks alcohol for nutritional reasons? I certainly don’t. If booze was nutritional alcoholics would be the healthiest people on planet earth.

I drink because I don’t want to think about my current diet or how the war in Iraq is going, or how I’m about to turn 57 and still haven’t reached half the goals I set for myself when I was a sexy, vivacious young fox of 30. I drink because I want to pretend I’m a member of the roundtable at the Algonquin trading quips and barbs with Dorothy Parker. I drink because I want to get smashed and feel like I’m still the queen of the dance floor, not that I ever was, but southern comfort mixed with cranberry juice and a slice of lime, makes me think I am or was. I drink because I need sex and have more courage to ask for it after I’ve swallowed more than my share of tequila worms from the bottom of the bottle.

Booze can teach you a lot about yourself, that is if you’re paying attention. For instance, I’ve learned seven salty dogs makes my bed spin, and that I can stop the spinning by placing one foot firmly on the floor as an anchor.

Four whiskey sours gave me the courage to ask Morgana if I could feel her 55 double D breast implants when I met her at Loll 43. She loved the attention. It was the first time I fondled a woman in public. Whiskey sours also fueled my first visit to the legendary Brass Ass in Kentucky where I saw my first strippers. Man, were they tired looking women. Broke up my fantasy.

I’ve learned not to trade jack Daniels shots with the person who is supposed to be the designated driver and then really let them drive home. We made it, but I don’t know how.

Even hangovers have their uses, like diverting my attention away from, and delaying my self recriminations for going home with the loser with whom I was engaged in sparkling conversation the night before.

C’mon people, who needs another label to remind us that we are overweight, don’t exercise enough and don’t eat right. If you’re like me, you can’t even read the booze label before you start drinking, much less during or after you finish drinking.

Before you know it the government will force women to tattoo their uterus opening with a sign telling babies....Life, extremely dangerous!...enter at your own risk!...sheeesh!