So, don't....
- Text. Autofill is your worse enemy, don't make things any easier for him. What sounds coherent is only an announcement of what a douche you can be when unsupervised.
- Phone. My folks still won't let me live this down. I took the "I love you, man!" to a whole new level.
- Blog, email or Facebook. No matter how insightful you might think you are, you're just spewing nearly unintelligible tripe that can't be retracted. "I'm hammered and I approve this statement!"
- Suggest to your wife/girlfriend to invite her friend over. It might sound like a great idea in your head but remember, your brain cells are swimming in a river of alcohol induced Cinemax delusion. This wasn't one I personally experienced but I caught the highlights from a friend who earned executive status in the dog house.
- Strike up a conversation with the guy in the next urinal. You might think you're just being friendly but I can almost guarantee you that your definition of "friendly" will be much different than his. Your best bet is to keep your head down, avoid eye contact, do your business and get out, fast.
- Have sex. You and your wife might be willing but the third member of your "triumvirate" will be on sabbatical, guaranteed, and that just makes for an awkward situation you can only hope that neither you nor her will remember the morning after. Unfortunately most women will be able to recap like an ESPN commentator.
- Talk to your kids. If you EVER want to permanently lose street cred with your kids, have a conversation with them when you're totally plowed. That's a Rubicon moment, you'll never be able to return.
- Photoshop or Lightroom. Ok, this one may not apply to many of you but if you're ever in the business of processing photos you'll appreciate this. I've been guilty of this. Working on photos in the evening, swimming my way through one cocktail after another, only to wake up the next morning to see a bunch of Andy Warhol photos on my computer. Yikes!
- Ask for another drink. The moment you feel like you want another drink is the time to stop. At that very moment you've reached the point of no return. Anything beyond this point is a minefield of disaster.
- Drive. That's a no-brainer. Sure, you might feel you're ok to drive but Murphy's Law says that the night you decide to drive "buzzed" is the night the cops set up a gauntlet of sobriety checks between the pub and your home. Let's just say I've dodge a few bullets like Neo in The Matrix. But no more.
- Follow your intuition. Remember, that little voice inside your head is just as hammered as you are. Trust me, you ladies will talk yourselves into doing the unthinkable only to have to suffer the "Walk of Shame" the morning after. You guys will convince yourselves that you're so much more then you really are, taking the moniker of "F@#k Ball" to new heights. Dudes, no one wants to hear your old high school football stories, especially the hot chick whose breasts you've been staring at all night. Eyes up!
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