This month, Louisiana will spend a long weekend solidifying its position as America’s most alcoholic state. Whether you’re considering a trip to the Big Easy for the weekend, or you’re just going to hit up the Spanish Town parade, I feel the time has come to help you learn to have fun like a grown-up.
You don’t have to wait until Lent to give up getting hammered and making poor choices. That’s why I am offering my Professional Life Coachâ„¢ advice here, lest you wind up passed out in the French Quarter with some jackass’ man parts rubbed in your face.
In the words of every beer commercial ever: Please drink responsibly. You don’t have to be a stuffed shirt. You can still cut loose, but you should give moderation a try.
The key is to find a balance between dancing topless on a table and being the uptight guy who spends all night yapping about his 401(k). It’s about time you find the happy medium between sipping expensive sherry like Frasier Crane and spending Mardi Gras sleeping in the back of a U-Haul and not showering for five days. Just remember what my personal hero Drop Dead Fred said: “We’re grown-ups now!”
The key is to find a balance between dancing topless on a table and being the uptight guy who spends all night yapping about his 401(k).
Please familiarize yourself with the concept of THAT GIRL (or THAT GUY). THAT GIRL is the person everyone will be talking about tomorrow. “Did you hear about THAT GIRL who peed in the kitchen cabinet?” “Did you see THAT GUY crawl under the porch?” THAT GUY gets so drunk he has explosive diarrhea and gets arrested. THAT GIRL has a crying fit in the bathroom.
Before you do something really stupid, ask yourself, “Will people be talking about this tomorrow?” “Might this get my name in the newspaper?” If the answer is yes, it’s probably not a good idea.
Have you ever been to a nude beach or seen pictures of a nudist colony? Ever notice how none of the people there are the kinds of people you like looking at without clothes on?
I know, when you’ve been drinking, it’s hard to remember that you’re not Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt. I’m telling you now: You’re hideous. You’re fat. You’re hairy. You have pimples on your ass. It’s OK, because only you and I know that. The only way we can keep it between the two of us is if you keep your damn pants on.
If you should lapse in your judgment and drop trou, destroy any photographic or video evidence. Just ask Brian Downing, the now-infamous Krystal Baller.
Should the evening turn sour, just get home safely and go to sleep. Call a cab or catch a ride, and immediately get into your bed. No good can come of being online or on the phone at this hour. Take two ibuprofen, drink a full glass of water, and go to sleep.
Don’t take pictures of your junk and send them to everyone in your contacts. Grandma doesn’t need to know what your junk looks like now that you’re all grown-up. Under no circumstances are you to text the girl who dumped you in 10th grade or leave a voicemail for your boss, telling him what a useless piece of crap he is.
This is not a sitcom; it’s real life. You will be humiliated, and you will get fired. You should not sit on Facebook all night, posting YouTube videos of “Nothing Compares 2 U.” Your friends don’t want to listen to hours upon hours of your drunken butthurt, and after a few hours of you repeatedly posting “Everybody Hurts,” one of them might call the coroner to have you committed.
My final words of advice, again in the words of Drop Dead Fred: “You never leave a party til the very, very end.” When the bar closes, if you’ve kept your big-kid panties on all night and haven’t gotten stupid, you can silently judge all the people who haven’t been as responsible as you. You can giggle to yourself as they make poor life choices.
You don’t want to miss out on the sidewalk sale. You might find yourself at an impromptu naked pool party, watching a whole group of THAT GIRLs and THAT GUYs from your little judgment perch in the shallow end, and you just might find that remembering it all the next day is a lot more fun, especially when you managed not to do anything you’d rather forget.