It’s offical. No more frinkin drinking.

While last night’s festivities were undeniably fun, the toll has been taken on bodies, and the bodies reminded us why it’s called intoxication.
Sake and sushi with friends was a welcome genisis to a night where the cash flew away like startled geese. I wish I could say where all the cash went, but I can’t remember her name. Damn the booze, but even without beer goggles she was a hot little number with an amazing smile and a lithe, lovely body.

Ichiban did not disappoint. We sat in the big booth with the high, velvety back. I was surprised by the arrival of one and deeply disappointed in a few no-shows. But dinner was sublime, and I felt very satisfied with my sake and asparagus rolls.

We lost one before we ventured to the non-nudie bar. I think pasties are a little ridiculious if you ask me. As usual I found one girl I liked best. I was surprised to see the tattooed vixen that charmed me months ago when we blew an impressive wad. Luckily she was otherwise engaged with patrons with bigger wallets, but I tipped her none the less. I think she had a new tattoo. Still yummy. Still eightteen. The new one, and I should be shot for forgetting her name was all Philly sass and playful flirting. She asked David at some point if I was his girl or just a friend. An odd question, but she didn’t seem to mind the presence of the men at my table. She adored Chris and gave him his first dance. Lots of chatting and talking later, she bought me a shot which I had to retrieve out of the lovely bosom of the waitress. I thought it a nice gesture. I was smitten. She even asked me for my number, which was not given due to an arguement with her manager at the end of the evening. I watched her flee into the dressing room and had to shrug. My feelings were hurt just a little. And then I had to remember that I was at a strip club and it was all just a fantasy.

But this morning my kidneys hate me. Really hate me. And David has been sick all day. The poor boy just didn’t realize how much alcohol was in his system until it was too late, too late being in our bathroom. Just so you know, sea-weed turns everything in your tummy green. Just thought I would share. Somehow in his many journeys to the bathroom we lost our shower curtain. I couldn’t do much for him, all my home remidies failing. It seems that sleep is his best cure. He revived himself a few hours ago, took a bath (no shower curtain) and ate a bit. Now he is watching anime on the couch with the beagles, still recovering but thankfully awake.

Our new motto is No Drink - Just Ink. We, if we get in better shape, are getting inked at the end of the year. It’s a goal we have. And we figure that with all the money we waste going out we can afford some prime work. So the twenty dollars here and fifty there is going into a fund for the tats. Money well spent, I say. At least it won’t make us sick.

There are few social alternatives to drinking. I am thinking of reviving movie night, sans booze. Investing in Risk (David said he saw LOTR Risk at Sci-Fi City and I am just geeky enough to want it) and other games. Instead of booze we are going to get coffee. Try out new recipies. And maybe sometime in December we can think about drinking again (We want to have a Halloween party), but for now it’s going to be saving the cash and doing things that won’t damage our bodies for days on end.

Thank you to all that came out. I loved my presents!! Thanks again Chris for driving our sorry asses home. You are the best.