So, Last Night I was Drunk and Went Shopping on Amazon

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.

I Have Found My Spirit Animal

So there you are. It’s late at night; doesn’t matter if it’s the week or weekend. Maybe your car is almost on E. Maybe you’ve killed your buzz safely enough that it’s time to reward yourself with some Funyuns, “anything that kind of looks like meat and is warm” and a Muscle Milk to balance it all out. You get out of your car…umm, I meant to say whip, and hello, hello….

You see a vision, a hot chick. Just lounging about the gas pumps in her “night out” clothes. And I thought this sort of thing only used to happen on Skinemax. The video goes on for six minutes. And while I am sure some of you boneheads are thinking, “Too long, not gonna watch” I am sure you watched videos with hot girls that were a lot shorter than 6 minutes, ifyaknowwhatImean.

So you might want to invest the six minutes to get all the jokes, or at least trust me knowing my jokes are gonna be almost as funny anyway. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. But seeing as how I am fascinated watching hot, drunk chicks, I watched the whole thing, and here’s what I have to say.

Video is narrated by a guy. You would think these kids would know how to hold their damn phones at this point to get a solid picture. Landscape, people! The location of this video is unknown, guy-let’s just call him Tyler-stars narrating. We’ll call the girl Ashley. (Look for their hilarious webisodes on CollegeHumor.com in a week.)

Ty exits his vehicle (sorry, was just watching Cops) and sees Ashley semi-seductively stumbling about the gas pumps. It’s unclear how Ashley (or “Smashley” as her girlfriends no doubt call her while throwing Skinny Girl martinis down her throat) suddenly materializes. Ty puts on his ‘smoove’ voice, because, let’s face it, this is pretty much shooting fish in a barrel.  Why has this never happened to me? I have spent an inordinate amount of time at convenience stores in the middle of the night due to poor life decisions. In many cases, those poor life decisions happened 5 minutes before I got to the convenience store. But, noooo, there’s no drunken Ashley waiting to stumble into my car, like an angel falling from heaven.

The smoove leaves his voice as soon as Ash makes a move to get into his “whip.” So I guess Ty is driving a solid car. The shot darkens as we hear the horn go off. Tyler is not amused, and probably readjusts his sideways cap to show as much. Ashley is hanging off the closed driver’s side door, with a “come hither” look.

She then tries to backwardly slide into the open car window like a drunken Danica Patrick. Ashley fails, falls onto the ground. Tyler proves he is not a total jerkoff and tells another customer the gas pumps aren’t working, but our girl Smash sure is. How any dude can’t at least be amused this is happening to him is beyond me. Tyler asks if Ashley needs some help, does she need paramedics “or something?” Just WTF could that “something” be? A delicious Little Debbie snack cake from the store? A GrubHub? What Tyler, what?

Ashley is only wearing a red tank top (that she is clearly rocking, BTW), Daisy Dukes and socks-no shoes. You ever wonder where those random shoes suddenly appear from out on the road? They’re Ashley’s. Tyler notes it’s cold out and is actually trying to be helpful, asking her her name. She just looks at him and doesn’t answer. Man, there really isn’t much to NOT like about a girl like this! Her equilibrium is off as she dips up and down, then holds onto the car as she moves to the passenger side.

As she moves, I see what appears to be an Impala plate on the side of the car. Tyler’s “whip” is a Chevy? A Chevy Impala? Yea, it’s black, shiny and got rims, but I think the guys down at Pep Boys wouldn’t even classify this as a “whip.” Ashley snakes her way into the car via the open passenger side window. Huh? Didn’t Tyler say it was cold? And he has both windows open just to fill up? Ashley starts mumbling about his whip, probably something like, “Eshvenn Iz know a Shebby Impala ishnt a whhhip.” She tries to stand up in the front seat. Tyler remains a gentlemen, tell Ash he’s about to call his sisters over here to “fuck you up.”

Tyler starts dropping the F bombs, then says something in Spanish. Hmm, perhaps “Tyler” was a poor choice to name him. Too late, he’s stuck with it. Plus I am far too lazy to re-edit this anymore than I have to. Tyler storms over to the passenger side, opens the door and tells her to get the f out. I’m thinking, “DUDE, there are guys that would KILL to stop for a fill up, and end up with a drunken cutie in their car.” That’s a major pull, Ty! She stumbles out, Ty continues with the f bombs, and tells her “it’s already bad enough you already got so many finger prints on my car!” Ugh, one of these guys.

Tyler goes about filling up, even though he earlier said the pumps weren’t working. Maybe he was just being a dickhead so no one took the last of the Premium for his whip. Tyler gives her some life lessons. He continues to call her dumb, as I’m starting to wonder just where in the hell this camera is. It doesn’t appear to be him holding his phone, does he wear a GoPro or something?

Turns out Ashley stole his cigarettes, so Tyler goes to get them. The cigarettes are a brand I’ve never heard of called Sandia. I guess that’s the brand all whip owners smoke. Sounds like cheap Indian tobacco to me. Ty finally turns the camera to him as he now laments the situation he finds himself in. His name is clearly not Tyler at this point, sorry hombre. I am positive you are not one of those bad hombres I’ve been hearing about. He continues to go off on Ashley, as we see her now crawling on the ground like the girl from The Ring. There’s a story as to how Ash got in this shape and ended up at this gas station, but we will never, never know.

"Must...get...grape Propel....and....my ..shoes."

Like a drunken zombie (my Halloween costume every year by the way), Lady A stumbles back to the passenger side, reaches into the whip and takes his radio! Huh? It’s almost 2017 and they’re still making removable radios? I know I am not in the whip culture, but this is news to me. She hands it back to him, Ty gets into the whip. Finally, some of the people who actually work at the gas station arrive on scene. They were probably watching the whole time, rolling their eyes because they didn’t want to deal with this shit, either.

It turns out Ashley broke Tyler’s radio. Now Tyler can’t listen to his God-awful auto-tuned “music.” He joins with a gas station employee as they follow Ashley, who is now walking like a teetering penguin. As they approach her, the video goes Sopranos and suddenly ends.

There are some things we will never know or understand, my friends. This is one of them.