Ever been drunk before? I bet you have.

Have you ever gone to bed at 2:30am totally wham-shammered a little bit tipsy, only to find that you took the sheets off earlier that day and forgot to replace them before drinking several glasses of red wine throughout the evening?

No?

Well, good on ya, because it's tricky making the bed under those circumstances.  Trust me. 

First of all, you have to pick all the matching pillowcases of the right sizes and shapes. Then you have to struggle with that damn fitted sheet, which means you may or may not end up stumbling and falling face-first into the mattress.  Repeatedly. Probably. 

Also?  All those duvet cover buttons are fucking difficult. 

So what led to this disaster, you might be wondering?

Hubby's buddy, known around here as Larry (as in: Larry, Hubby, and Moe), came for a visit with his adorable and hilarious - and very wine-generous - girlfriend.  Let's call her Shemp. 

Shemp brought the red wine, and then when that ran out, Hubby miraculously found a couple more bottles. Before we knew it: I was winning at Taboo; Hubby was throwing Taboo cards across the room; Shemp was suggesting we play Apples to Apples instead; Hubby was spilling red wine on the carpet; Shemp was grinding a salt shaker all over the stain; Larry was showing off the speckled reddish purple spots on his socks; Shemp was vacuuming up the salt; and I was eating stuffed crust pizza. 

And then, THEN, is when things took a turn for the better.  Because that's when, my dear friends, my favourite activity of all time took place.

Late night living room dance party, y'all. 

Which if you've ever read my bio, you know is truly the best thing that could ever happen.

Now.  You'd think that all that jumping and hopping and singing and running and moon-walking and sock-sliding would somehow reduce the effects of the red wine... but I think it has the opposite effect.  Like, somehow, it gets your blood pumping rapidly so all the alcohol goes coursing through your veins even faster than it normally would.  Or something. 

So by the time 2:30 came around, and the last song had been played (Beyoncé, If I Were a Boy - DUH), finding the bed unmade was a matter worth shouting and complaining about.  I nearly stole Larry and Shemp's guest bed. 

That said, it's been a while since I've laughed so hard at Hubby, so at least there's that. 

Meet my friend Sinkhole

Remember when I told you about Tuesday's sinkhole? 

This sinkhole:

Well, that sinkhole has become quite the running gag around here. 

On Wednesday morning, more people talked about that sinkhole than talked about the several serious news stories impacting our city, including a provincial election and even a tragic shooting.  Unlike the other legitimate news stories, the sinkhole was novel; it was tangible; it was impacting thousands of commuters.  It was the talk of the town. 

Then the sinkhole got bigger, which just fueled its news-worthiness.  It became the size of an Olympic pool (Michael Phelps style), which meant the whole east-bound highway would be closed for TWO WEEKS for repairs - including the expensive special order of GIANT sewer pipes. 

This is HIGHWAY, you guys.  A real highway that is packed with commuters every day before and after work, linking my eastern suburb to centretown.  So I'm sure you can imagine the commuter chaos that ensued. 

Cars were backed up for hours upon hours across the city.  Of course I was thrilled to take the bus.  Our city transpo services got their shit together on this one.  They fully screwed over highway drivers by maintaining the dedicated bus lane.  BOOYAW. 

And then things got ridiculous, because that's when the sinkhole got itself a twitter account. 

The sinkhole tweets, you guys. 

Par example:

And then I died with laughter. 

People all over town are tweeting the sinkhole.  News stations are interviewing it.  It sends messages to the mayor. 

Folks are joking about the likelihood that the sinkhole was the attempt of our suburb to separate itself from the city. (Which, if you're Canadian and just watched the Quebec election, you can appreciate the humour.)

Somebody made a hilarious ecard. 

Bus drivers are thanking the sinkhole for allowing them to re-route onto the wrong side of the highway.  Because it's fun. 


The whole city is laughing at the disaster of a car pulled from the sinkhole's mouth. 

And then, every time I assume this whole thing will blow over, it gets even better. 

Yesterday, ANOTHER SINKHOLE (no joke) fell through on the French side of the river, and of course it started tweeting too...  

 

...making the whole ordeal so priceless that I simply cannot get enough.