I think we’ve all pretty much have had Saturday (or this coming Monday) mornings like this:
“Oh, God, what did I drink last night? Was that really a fishbowl of Harvey Wallbangers? And who drinks Harvey Wallbangers anymore? All right, let’s take stock of the current situation. Where. Am. I?” Slowly, cautiously looks around. “My bed. OK, this is good.” Swings legs off of bed onto floor. “Oh God! Is that vomit? Is that really vomit?” Yes, it really, really is vomit. This is bad. “Wait a minute, is that corn? I haven’t eaten corn for three months! Not my vomit. Good. Somebody else is cleansies. Now let me check my phone. Oh shit, the battery is almost drained! WhatdidIdo? Whatdidido?” Plugs in charger, screen is smudged with what appears to be queso. “Let me check texts.” No drunken texts. “Whew. Oh God, Facebook! WhatdidIdo?” Facebook is clear. “Oh God Twitter! What did I Twee… ppffttt, just kidding, no one tweets anymore.” Checks what windows are open. “Hmm…GIS sexy neighbor…nope, that’s not her. Huh. Amazon is open. Oh God. What. Did. I. Do? Much like a bad Celine Dion song, it’s all coming back to me now.”
What? You’ve never had a morning like this? Only me?
(Awkward pause.) Sooooo anyway….
Apparently I went drunk Amazon shopping last night. Now, it’s
up to me to fashion some sort of story as to how I purchased a seemingly bunch of
random things. There really should be some sort of safeguard on Amazon so this
doesn’t happen. I remember reading a story I just made up how approximately 9%
of Amazon’s profits come from drunk shopping. BTW, pro tip from your old bud Kev Theory-Honey. Your reckless spending won't be as bad. Theoretically.
We’ll start at the top. I distinctly remember shopping Amazon for a new trimmer. My old one is pretty busted, and it’s time to do some manscaping. I hope to one day shave images into my face to distract from the overall ugly.
I still have illusions of growing one of those long, thick beards that are in vogue with hipsters and bald guys who can’t grow hair anywhere else on their head. I can tell when my meager “beard” gets a little too shaggy when I take a drink of Malibu and diet, and I can still taste it five minutes later. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. It’s like drinking twice. I seemed to also pick out a model that vacuums as well. Ah, always thinking. And it’s not lost on me I’m apparently not the only one thinking about manscaping.
|Dale forever. Suck it, junior.|
Again, apparently I am not the only one thinking ahead here.
OK, this isn’t too bad. I admit, this is where I begin to brown out, but I am super sure I am still a responsible shopper who only buys the absolute necessities. What else is in the cart?
I think it’s kinda lipstick on a pig kinda thing at this point, but cool. Aww, well look at Buzzed Kev, looking out for the mess that is Everyday Kev. I find this inspiring, like subconsciously, I’m telling myself I am handsome, desirable, confident and secure. Way to go, Buzzed Kev! I am anxious to see what’s next in the cart.
What the fuck, Buzzed Kev? That’s just mean! I am pretty sure (judging by the empty Skinny Girl Sangria bottles-don’t judge- by the Lazy Boy) the black out is settling in. I feel like we’re taking a turn here. Buzzed Kev is now Drunk Kev.
Oh, FFS Drunk Kev. Drunk, Lonely, Horny Kev. Well, at least the reviews make this seem like a semi sensible purchase.
And to be fair, I have always found the sensation of a boob in my hand seems to make stress disappear. And twenties. Lots and lots of twenties disappear. I went to a strip club once and found glitter in my wallet the next day. My empty, empty wallet. But that’s for another post. What else is in the cart?
Sweet! If I had to have one replica wrestling championship belt it would be ECW. And 65 bucks seems like a fair price. Wait, it’s a kids belt? GD it Drunk Kev, get your shit together. How is this supposed to impress the lady folk? It’s gotta be a pretty wasted girl that believes I am a real wrestling champion. Sigh, this belt will never get glitter on it. I haz a sads.
Awww, Drunk Kev, you still get me. And that’s a damn good price for 18 boxes of tissues! Way to pull yourself back together, DK! We are best buds!
Oh. Dear. God. Bloody hell. Drunk Kev just played me. Wai…$2300!! FFFuuuuuuuuucckkk me. Wait. Cumisha is in it? Well, then, this is a total waste of money. Amazon will be getting a very angry call shortly. After I get all liquored up again to complain about shelling out 23frigging hundred dollars for porn. Porn is free these days. This is bad. Very bad. There should be some sort of automatic warning triggered in Amazon whenever you try to blow a ton of dough on worthless shit. Did I already tell you guys about that article I read about how 9% of Amazon’s profits come directly from drunken shopping? Right now, I think it’s up to 14%. MFers. I’d like to say it can only go uphill from here, but….
WTF?! I already bought those! GGGRRRR. These are getting regifted for Xmas. You’re welcome, Dad. Oh, look, there’s more stuff in my cart. How freaking late did I stay up last night wasting money?
I don’t even fish.
I don’t even know how I got here. But ladies, here is the takeaway. This look is HAWT. I have a pair to sell you cheap. Real cheap. HMU. WTF, One item left. BTW, y’all should note I use smile.amazon and you should, too. It’s a great way for your reckless Friday night purchases to help various causes. So…
Yup, makes sense.