Like the song says, “Tequila makes your clothes fall off.” What the song leaves out is that your clothes fall off from the force of convulsing while you vomit.
Me: Ugh…I heaved so hard my bra came unhooked.
Kiefer: You call that heaving? You’re the daintest puker ever.
Me: Awww…you called my puking “dainty.” That’s why I love you.
I hate throwing up. And even more than throwing up, I hate people hearing me throw up. So when Kiefer described my vomiting as “dainty” and “like a kitten hacking up a tiny hairball,” it was like he gave me the Olympic Gold Medal.
That’s right. If puking quietly was a sport, I would win the gold.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve thrown up from drinking:
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Jungle juice is stronger than it tastes. Welcome to college.
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A milkshake is not an adequate dinner on New Year’s Eve.
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Half of a salad is not an adequate dinner before having a few drinks.
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Do not try to “drink the rainbow.” Drinking the rainbow = a shot of every color (ROYGBIV).
And now I can add Lesson #5: If you’re going to drink 2.643839261 raspberry margaritas, you need to eat more than chips and salsa.
