superchicken

Dear Alcohol,



First and foremost, let me tell you that I'm a huge fan of yours. My friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer with the game, and you're even around in the holidays hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings.



Yet lately, I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences, briefed below for your review.



Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity takes place after 2 a.m. Why would you make me call those ex's when I know for a fact they do not want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night?





Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal and, though cooking is far from my specialty, why you suggested that I eat a hot dog with chili sauce, along with a big Italian sausage sandwich and some stale chips (washed down with chocolate Nesquik and topped off with a Kit Kat all after a few cheese curls and chili cheese fries) is beyond me. Eclectic eater I am, but I think you went too far this time.



Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down, it's completely unnecessary. The black and blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day is beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.



Pictures: This can be a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the last point below, but the following costumes are banned from ever

being placed on my head in public again: Indian wigs, sombreros, bows, ties, boxes, upside-down cups, inflatable balloon animals, traffic cones, or bras. Also, what is with you making me take pictures with people I clearly don't like when I'm sober; yet they suddenly become my best friends when a flash is presented?



Beer Goggles: If I think I may know him/her from somewhere, I most likely do not. Please do not request that I go over and see if in fact, I do actually know that person. The phrase "Let's F***" is illegal from now on. While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-to-mouth-block that would stop this thought from becoming a statement, especially in public. Please stop me from talking to the guy/girl with the crooked teeth; acned-up face; bad breath, beer belly, etc. Why are they so appealing to me while I'm with you and why are they so disgusting to me the next morning after you have worn off?



Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop. This is getting ridiculous now. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order, but the 3 p.m. hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My entire day is shot. I ask that, if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to bed/passing out facedown on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily Saturday or Sunday (or any day for that matter) activities.



I'd like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Friday 3pm (pre-happy hour) on your possible solutions and hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.



Thank you from your biggest fan.

Lefty