The quest for world domination can be approached in a variety of different methods. Politicians tend to apply the more economic pressures of tariffing and embargoing, whereas blood thirsty war lords like to approach the goal with weapons stockpiles and warfare threats. A gentleman, on the other hand, knows that to truly dominate the people of the earth, he simply needs to dance into their very souls and set up shop catering to man’s most innate desires, which seem to be a simple trinity of carnal pleasures, the motivation to nullify the brain through intoxication, and the basic deliciousness of food. In the below case, this gentleman prefers to focus on the latter, and walks through some logic on how he might become supreme ruler of the Earth assisted only with the luxuries of time travel.

OnceandFutureChef: if you could fuck around with a time machine
OnceandFutureChef: would you go into the future? or into the past?
OnceandFutureChef: (you can only go in one direction)
OnceandFutureChef: for instance, you could go to the future and just be shocked at all the new technology… but, you could go into the past and shock everyone else with your own knowledge of technology and shit
DizzyWizzard : definitely the past
DizzyWizzard : but not too far back where i have to compromise comfort
DizzyWizzard : id like to go far enough back where i’d be the shit with all my gizmos, but not too far back where shit sucks
DizzyWizzard : like i dont want to deal with the plague
OnceandFutureChef: i would def go to the dark ages
OnceandFutureChef: i’d “invent” things like pizza and donuts
OnceandFutureChef: become the head chef and confidante of the king and use him as my puppet for power
OnceandFutureChef: if i went into the future i would be a cave man
DizzyWizzard : hahaha
OnceandFutureChef: wouldn’t know how to work the telepathy machines
OnceandFutureChef: it would suck
DizzyWizzard : so you would go back in time and invent donuts
OnceandFutureChef: yeah, just be some super wise wizard, inventing the most delicious shit
OnceandFutureChef: hell i don’t think hamburgers were “invented” until the 50s
DizzyWizzard : invent alcohol
OnceandFutureChef: i think alcohol has been around since the dinosaurs
OnceandFutureChef: Neanderthals fermenting hooch in brontosaurus skulls and stuff. So that wouldn’t work
DizzyWizzard : you’re insane
DizzyWizzard : i like how being a chef would make you the most powerful dude in the realm
OnceandFutureChef: it would. can you imagine knowing the secrets of say Butter?
OnceandFutureChef: you’re the only guy that knows how to make butter
OnceandFutureChef: you’d be a ruler
DizzyWizzard : uh, i guess so
OnceandFutureChef: that’s how fucking Marco Polo was so big. spice trader
DizzyWizzard : well, he was also a sea fairing gent. and back then they thought the sea was filled with monsters
OnceandFutureChef: yeah
DizzyWizzard : that gave him slightly more cache
OnceandFutureChef: yeah he was the man. Importing spices and gunpowder. he was like the most powerful man in the world for a while
DizzyWizzard : but you’d just be fat and in the kitchen making shit
DizzyWizzard : not much of a swashbuckler
OnceandFutureChef: no, i would do all that shit
OnceandFutureChef: i’d invent like hot air balloon and do the spice and gun powder trading
OnceandFutureChef: it would be like magic
OnceandFutureChef: and remember, back in the day it was considered a sign of wealth to be rotund. a sign of success and wisdom
OnceandFutureChef: c’mon, being the only guy around that knows how to make french fries?
OnceandFutureChef: please, you’d be considered a god
OnceandFutureChef: fucking “invent” the meatball sub
OnceandFutureChef: be worshipped forever
DizzyWizzard : hahaha
DizzyWizzard : would you invent pizza or go straight to the pizzone?
DizzyWizzard : when would you introduce garlic butter dipping sauces?
DizzyWizzard : you’d have to stagger it all. allow their palates to adjust
OnceandFutureChef: blow their minds when we come out with the Taco
OnceandFutureChef: followed by the Burrito
OnceandFutureChef: followed by the Chalupa and so on
DizzyWizzard : what if your plan backfired and they got suspect of you and labeled you a Food Witch. They’d burn you at the stake
OnceandFutureChef: jesus you are right
DizzyWizzard : the whole town filled with the delicious fumes of your trans fat loaded gut as it roasted over an open fire
OnceandFutureChef: they would burn me alive. fucking pitchforks and torches all the way up the path to my estate
DizzyWizzard : an angry mob who no longer fear your powers cause they realize it wasnt magic. you just duped them with trans fats
OnceandFutureChef: i better rethink this fucking shit
DizzyWizzard : this is all very reminescent of an episode of ducktails in which Gyro Gearloose goes back in times and becomes the kings favorite subject thanks to his “inventions”
OnceandFutureChef: exactly
DizzyWizzard : was this whole debate inspired by that?
OnceandFutureChef: no, but i would love to see that again

A gentleman takes his sartorial getup very seriously, often times placing an equal amount of importance on his appearance as he does the business at hand. Indeed, maintaining complete composure is a top priority, and he’ll allow neither hell nor high water to compromise his fashionable digs regardless of the circumstances.  His pant leg’s pleat will remain crisp while leading the charge atop his steed in battles, his ascot’s knot will remain fashionably fastened at high speed while whipping around Monte Carlo in illegal drag races, and his shirt’s ruffles will  properly aerate his untamed chest hairs while fishing off his yacht in the fiercest of tempests. No amount of sweat or blood or hemorrhoid runoff or premature ejaculation will compromise the gentleman’s commitment to supreme elegance in appearance, lest he be mistaken for an unsavvy simpleton.

SartorialSir: so
SartorialSir: i shit my pants this weekend
Sent at 11:35 AM on Monday
J.C.Pennyman:  hahaha. what happened?
J.C.Pennyman: was it sat night during your odyssey of indulgence? (I was living vicariously through your twitter updates while making dinner with Sarah*)
SartorialSir: Yes
SartorialSir: Went to Roberta’s for dinner
SartorialSir: Decided to get real drunk. gin, of course
SartorialSir: then some party at The Woods bar
SartorialSir: beers and shots of whiskey
SartorialSir: then The Gutter for gin again, and more whiskey
SartorialSir: then some house party to meet up with Davidson and some other dudes
SartorialSir: where i grabbed an entire bottle and started drinking out of it
SartorialSir: i was wasted, dancing around like a maniac headbanging (there is video) – me and some dude with a peg leg were thrashing
J.C.Pennyman: haha why did he have a peg leg?
SartorialSir: who fucking knows.
SartorialSir: anyway, then i smelled something
SartorialSir: it smelled like a dirty diaper
SartorialSir: i went to the bathroom
SartorialSir: i had probably half a cup of shit in my drawers
SartorialSir: i think i had a broken valve and was too fucked up to notice the leak. the o-ring on my tank must have come loose
SartorialSir: i scraped my boxers clean as possible
SartorialSir: then decided it was time to go home
SartorialSir: it was awful
SartorialSir: yet im oddly unashamed
SartorialSir: i flet like George brett
SartorialSir: George Fucking Brett – “WATER. was at this great little steak house Cocomo’s in Vegas”…
SartorialSir: I’m good for that once or twice a year
J.C.Pennyman:  hahahaha
J.C.Pennyman: thats amazing that you didnt even realize you’d shit yourself until you smelled your own filth
SartorialSir: the horror
J.C.Pennyman: did you go home and have Alison clean you up?
SartorialSir:  i just stripped down to my boxers and got in the shower and let them rinse out and doused them and myself with all manner of soaps and shampoos
J.C.Pennyman:  scents and oils
SartorialSir:  made alison spray the inside ass of my jeans with febreeze cause they stunk like rotten shit too
J.C.Pennyman:  so you are not washing them
SartorialSir:   well you cant wash raw denim
SartorialSir:   ruins them
SartorialSir:   rather have a little turd in there than see a $200 pair of jeans go up in smoke
SartorialSir:  i mean, these are fucking Nudie Jeans
J.C.Pennyman:  hahaha jesus christ
SartorialSir:  wtf am i supposed to do
SartorialSir:   i let them dry out on alison’s rack
SartorialSir:   and wore them the whole next day to the museum with her parents

Now the ill informed would argue that once a gentleman becomes a father, his gentleman years—an infinite domino effect of dazzlement, debauchery, and drinking with utter abandon—are behind him. Well, think again, dear reader. Sure, the normally courageous gentleman will run for cover faster than a terrorist in a shit storm at the very mention of child support payments and carpooling schedules; but that doesn’t mean the gentleman is incapable of being a mentor in a young child’s life while still fully committing himself to his fabulous lifestyle. A gent is, after all, a multitasker. And so, like an ambidextrous circus clown juggling eight bottles of moonshine and one whining child, the gentleman tackles fatherhood and drinking simultaneously. Care to add a unicycle to his impressive array of staggering feats? Rest assured, the gentleman can handle it!

JerzySure: what did you do last night?
Drinkin’Bud: my friend Ken* was in NJ from Atlanta, staying at that new W hotel in hoboken
JerzySure: isnt he going thru a divorce?
Drinkin’Bud: they were, but they’re trying to work things out, counciling, Ken curbing his drinking etc.
JerzySure: was he by himself?
Drinkin’Bud: no, his wife and baby daughter were with him
JerzySure: got it
Drinkin’Bud: so me and a few friends get there around 8:30 and his wife makes it real clear that they have an early flight in the moring and that he needed to take it easy
JerzySure: what time is the flight?
Drinkin’Bud: 8am newark
JerzySure: makes sense
Drinkin’Bud: we all have a few drinks, catch up – very smooth
Drinkin’Bud: then its time for the kid to go to bed, we say goodnight to his wife, and Ken escorts her upstairs to tuck her in and, in the process i guess, tells her he’s coming back down for “just one last drink”
JerzySure: haha famous last words
Drinkin’Bud: so Ken comes back down with beers from his room’s mini bar and a fucking baby monitor clipped to his belt like a godamn cell phone
JerzySure: HAHAHAHA FUCKIN KEN!
Drinkin’Bud: and he says he’s dying to check out the nightclub in the hotel
JerzySure: probably not the best move!
Drinkin’Bud: probably not, so we get in to the place and its chock full of NJ finest, Jersey shore all the way
JerzySure: nice, was the situation there?
Drinkin’Bud: umm we were the situation: drinks, shots, drinks, shots repeat
Drinkin’Bud: none of us dancing, then all of us dancing
JerzySure: hahaha so cheesy…any fist pumping?
Drinkin’Bud: who knows
JerzySure: what time was it?
Drinkin’Bud: had no idea, hours must have elapsed, but figured ken knew his time limit, so we didn’t think about it
Drinkin’Bud: we were having a great time until…
JerzySure: uh oh
Drinkin’Bud: i look over Ken’s shoulder at the door and in walks the wife in the hotel robe and slippers, she bee lines it for us, grabs Ken by the shoulder and asks him WTF he is doing still up
Drinkin’Bud: I guess she’d woken up, seen that it was now 3 AM and Ken was nowhere to be found
JerzySure: hahaha, how did she know you were in da club?
Drinkin’Bud: she woke up to snippets of house music coming through the other end (aka kens end) of the baby monitor followed by our girlish screams
Drinkin’Bud: he must have been hitting the talk button every time he flapped his arms in his goofy dance
JerzySure: hahahaha YIKES! wait they have walky talkies for the baby?
JerzySure: what?
JerzySure: the monitor was two-way?
Drinkin’Bud: i guess? who knows…
Drinkin’Bud: so anyway we all start to leave the club, she’s pretty annoyed, but Ken tries to convince her to go to the lobby bar for a night cap.
JerzySure: what?!
Drinkin’Bud: and his reason is “don’t worry about the baby, thats why we have the monitor!” and he orders everyone a round
JerzySure: FATHER. OF. THE. DECADE.

A gentleman is always looking for his mirror image in female form; a woman cut from the same silk cloth as he himself: The gentlelady. But in this day and age of posturing and prudishness, what qualities truly make the gentlelady stand out? Is it her dainty laugh? The size of her dowry? The number of suitors vying for her favor? While there is never a tell tale sign identifying members of this rare breed, you can bet your bottom dollar that if the woman in question eloquently refers to sexual intercourse as “doing it,” enjoys blackout-inducing levels of drinking and will only humble herself to hang her head when vomiting into her ex’s toilet (no doubt the porcelain thrown of a gentleman!), she is, indeed, a lady of the gentlest variety.

VicariousVixen: WTF!! What happened last night! And why haven’t you responded to my texts??
RogueDame: hiiii sorry! i’ve been super emo today. i slept with the Ex last night.
VicariousVixen: omg
RogueDame: i was so, so, so drunk. don’t remember doing it with him.
VicariousVixen: holyyyysmokesssss
RogueDame: hahahaa
VicariousVixen: wait wait need more info please.
RogueDame: i don’t really remember! he was exactly the same. we had a great time.
RogueDame: he said i was being really funny. that when we were doing it i kept getting on top and stopping and saying, DON’T YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT FEELINGS?!?!
VicariousVixen: SHUTTHEFRONTDOOR.SLAM IT!!! bahahahahahah
RogueDame: and i slapped him
VicariousVixen: how did that go over??
RogueDame: he liked it
RogueDame: although he said this morning that it really hurt
RogueDame: but not as bad as when he spanked me. BAHAHAAAAAA
VicariousVixen: hahaha you MANHANDLED HIM!!!
RogueDame: i let him know who’s boss
RogueDame: then spent the morning in his bathroom, throwing up beet salad and tequila
VicariousVixen: hot. mess.

The snowy landscape of the gentleman’s metropolitan wilderness can be rife with peril; thus when traipsing about from watering hole to watering hole in the dark of the evening, a gentleman must be constantly aware of all animals lurking in the shadows, and rely on his superior survival instincts to guide him. By keeping the blood warm with healthy spirits and reckless dance moves, the gentleman is able to stave off frostbite, while his generous spending habits will always keep him out of trouble and into stimulants to stay awake. But perhaps most of all, he must keep his one open eye constantly on the lookout for the sight of the elusive and mythical creature, the most famous of all catches: the Cougar. Staggering as if to purport a wound and wafting the scent of gin and tobacco, the Cougar will hone in on the gentleman and seize the opportunity to execute its famous takedown maneuver. The gentleman will accept the invitation, as is the way of the wild.

UrbanFrontiersman: Christmas party last night… I want to die right now
Pioneerman: hahahah. i am struggling as well
Pioneerman: i was supposed to pack for my flight home but had 3 jameson/baileys
instead
UrbanFrontiersman: i went home with a 39 year old secretary last night, divorced
with three kids
Pioneerman: hahahahah!! please elaborate on your venture last night
UrbanFrontiersman: so christmas party. its at this nice restaurant
UrbanFrontiersman: who cares right?
UrbanFrontiersman: but there is an open bar. so I just start housing IPAs, wine, etc…  must have had ten drinks
UrbanFrontiersman: so I notice this one girl is getting wasted, and I invite her and a bunch of other people to go to the bar
UrbanFrontiersman: we go to the bar, more cocktails. we’re all dancing, and she is like grinding on everyone
UrbanFrontiersman: after some pensive cogitation i said fuck it and went for it
UrbanFrontiersman: I end up making out with her, and take her back to my place…
UrbanFrontiersman: Best quote of the night… when i say wait, lets get a condom she replies “Don’t worry, i’m clean and too old to get pregnant”
Pioneerman: oh my god
Pioneerman: hhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Pioneerman: please give me three adjectives how you would best describe your
state of mind right now
UrbanFrontiersman: fucked, drunk, temporarily employed
Pioneerman: hahahahahahaha

GrizzlyBear: what happened?
GrizzlyBear: i mean WHAT HAPPENED?
ZooKeeper: haha i have no clue
GrizzlyBear: you black out too?
ZooKeeper: yes
GrizzlyBear: i am fucking hammered and still in my clothes from last night
GrizzlyBear: a shell of a man
ZooKeeper: hahaahahaha
GrizzlyBear: all i remember is one minute we’re casually drinking gin and tonics at the bar
GrizzlyBear: pausing from sipping our drinks to nibble on peanuts and to graciously thank the bartender for another generous buyback
GrizzlyBear: and the next i’m back in manhattan and getting berated by my cab driver, who is screaming “get the fuck out my cab muthafucka!”
ZooKeeper: hahaha holy shit, maybe you told him to turn off the Eagles like Lebowski did
GrizzlyBear: impossible, i love the Eagles
ZooKeeper: any idea what you did to piss him off?
GrizzlyBear: not a clue, and I don’t even want to fathom what horrible atrocities I committed in the back seat
ZooKeeper: hahahahaha
GrizzlyBear: but what scares me more
GrizzlyBear: WHAT SCARES ME MOST!
GrizzlyBear: is that I left kate a voicemail (this has all been relayed to me this morning) saying what a great time you and I had had, that I was leaving the bar and that it was 10:30pm
GrizzlyBear: but she said the voicemail was left at 1:30am
ZooKeeper: what?! we were at the bar for six hours?!
GrizzlyBear: chyeah…and three of those hours are unaccounted for
ZooKeeper: yikes
ZooKeeper: sounds like we generated 1.21 gigawats of drinkitude and time traveled
GrizzlyBear: no shit
GrizzlyBear: i hope the Libyans arent out to get us for stealing their plutonium
ZooKeeper: hahahaha
ZooKeeper: so are you going to work or what?
GrizzlyBear: not a fucking a chance
GrizzlyBear: i woke up in my bed with no clue where I was
GrizzlyBear: mud stains all over my pants (i’ve deduced that I took a tumble)
GrizzlyBear: and dried hummus at the corner of my mouth (which I must have bought from the bodega below my apt last night after getting thrown out of the cab…I can only imagine the scene I caused in there…I am NEVER going back)
ZooKeeper: hahaha christ
GrizzlyBear: i’m subhuman right now
GrizzlyBear: an animal
GrizzlyBear: a beast
GrizzlyBear: there is no way I can be within a 2 mile radius of sane, professional people
ZooKeeper: hahahahaha
GrizzlyBear: seriously, if i dared venture into the office today they’d call in the fish and game warden
GrizzlyBear: who’d shoot me on the spot with a tranquilizer gun and ship me to Alaska like a fucking grizzly bear so I could never find my way back to civilization
ZooKeeper: hahahaahaha, no way, i’d intervene and buy you for my petting zoo
GrizzlyBear: thank you
ZooKeeper: you srsly not going to work?
GrizzlyBear: for realz
GrizzlyBear: besides holing up in my 6th floor studio
there are only two thing on today’s agenda:
GrizzlyBear: mcdonalds
GrizzlyBear: and pornography
ZooKeeper: mmmm fries and porno
ZooKeeper: wait i thought you didn’t have internet installed yet?
GrizzlyBear: fuck you’re right
GrizzlyBear: well, looks like i’ll be drawing pictures of naked chicks having sex with each other and jerking off to those instead
ZooKeeper: hahaha god bless

On Dec 13, 2009, at 2:48 PM, Holiday Gent wrote:
Dudes, I am just now arising. Holy fuck. We need to chill the fuck down. What are u assholes doing today?

On Dec 13, 2009 at 3:19 PM, Festive Gent wrote:
In crowded Trader Joe’s … about to have total meltdown

On Dec 13, 2009, at 3:45 PM, Merry Gent wrote:
Hahaha. Cause of the babes or how shitty u feel?

On Dec 13, 2009, at 3:46 PM, Holiday Gent wrote:
Hahahaha what an awesome night

On Dec 13, 2009 at 4:03 PM, Festive Gent wrote:
problem #1 I have 4 fucking big containers of soggy onion rings, apparently from Delta’s, in my fridge and my arteries are starting to look like the Carlsbad Caverns. Do you guys want/need any of this shit?
problem #2 apparently i was refused service at Black’s Bar
problem #3 i blacked out drinking beer around 9pm at Delta’s

thanks for coming. i’m not drinking anymore in 2009, twitter dat

On Dec 13, 2009, at 4:35 PM, Cheerful Gent wrote:
Did we go to Harry’s Bar and if so what happened there? That was a serious party. Did anything bad happen? I feel like something bad happened. I woke up at 8 this morning fully clothed on the couch.

On Sun, Dec 13, 2009 at 4:55 PM, Festive Gent wrote:
We did go to Harry’s, you asked for 2 glasses of water and then left, or so I’m told, I don’t remember anything really. I have a suspicion something bad happened but I don’t know what. For some reason I feel like a guilty asshole, although that is probably just the residual whiskey in my veins talking, I don’t think I actually am capable of remorse.

On Dec 13, 2009, at 7:57 PM, Cheerful Gent wrote:
I’m sitting here eating old halloween candy trying to tolerate my own stench. I know I got a sandwich late night.

On Dec 13, 2009, at 8:34 PM, Merry Gent wrote:
I have been in a Kafkaesque hell all morning dropping off Jenn at Midway Airport. Ready to turn the juice back on though.

On Dec 13, 2009, at 8:35 PM, Merry Gent wrote:
What I meant to say was that I am heading home and pressing play on Tom Berenger’s “Sniper” pretty soon if you want to come over and watch it with me

On Dec 13, 2009, at 8:45 PM Cheerful Gent wrote:
I just puked up the candy shit. I want to be sniped right now

Since The Foggy Monocle has long been devoted to helping gentlemen and gentleladies everywhere piece together their sordid, booze soaked evenings, it must come as no surprise to learn that we’re big fans of The Hangover. We’re sure all of you are too. So if you can’t get enough of Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms and Zach Galifianakis’ zany, day-after antics, head on over to National Hangover Day on January 1st to feel a little better about whatever horrible sins you committed the night prior by watching The Hangover online. You can even win a trip to Las Vegas, horray! Or you can just send us your best day-after-New-Years chat, email or texts and we’ll award the most gentlemanly submitter with a copy of the DVD. Scout’s honor.

(Full disclosure: We were paid 60 grand in Gentleman’s Bucks to post this.)

A gentleman is always in high demand, but no more so than during the holidays, when eggnog-swilling guests anticipate his arrival with the giddiness of snot-nosed children awaiting St. Nick. Never one to deprive others of his dazzling presence (or himself of a delicious open bar), the gentleman makes sure to gallivant with redoubled vigor, attending party upon Christmas party, regardless if he was invited or not. However, such a cheer-spreading spree spreads a gentleman very thin indeed, and sometimes he’ll have to take a little personal time out of this selfless schedule to get back to his own state of Zen. Which means, when he isn’t trimming the tree, cooking a goose or installing a nativity scene on his sprawling front lawn, a gentleman can typically be found blacked out at late-night karaoke bars belting out the Holiday hits, hoovering up seasonable stimulants and fraternizing with pants-soiling ruffians (and of course not going to work the following day). Ah the gentleman and his heart-warming antics, ‘tis truly a Christmas miracle!

(Happy Holidays, Ladies and Gents, and consider this one a buy-back for putting up with the lack of updates; we’ll be back in full swing come January.)

RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: OMG
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: dude
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: epic wasted last night
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: its been a while
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: fucking holiday parties
St.Dick: hangover report?
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: well
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i took three of my friends to a colleague’s holiday party, which was at an apt
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: where max drinking was in effect bc that whole company just folded.
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i proceed to get smashed bc hey, why not
St.Dick: oh man
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: and don’t fully recall leaving
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: but, naturally, I decided to get some blow and go do karaoke
St.Dick: stands to reason
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: so i go over to [retracted] til like…4
St.Dick: hahaha
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: and also leave, take a car home, realize i left my keys there, have to go back, blah blah blah
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i must have been a piece of work when i arrived
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: anyhow
St.Dick: oh my
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: so this morning i wake up and i am like
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: shit, i do not remember leaving colleague’s holiday party
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: so i call a friend i went with
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: and he’s like
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: you don’t remember why you left?
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: apparently some drunk random dudes tried to come into the apt from the street, and followed girls in who were outside smoking
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: tried to like grab them in the hallway of this brownstone
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: so one of the dudes from the party throws one of these guys down the stairs
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: whenceforth random dude SHITS HIS PANTS
St.Dick: HOLY FUCK
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: merry christmas!!!!!!!!
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: apparently it was bad
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: the dude who pooped his pants was threatening to call the cops
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i was like yeah dude, you do that
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: senor poopypants
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: you explain to the cops that some guy was angry that you busted into his hallway, groped his female guests, tried to manhandle your way through the door then shit yourself
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: and that the hosts should therefore be arrested
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: PARTY
St.Dick: TOTES
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: TOLLY
St.Dick: TULLY
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: so that’s where im at this fine friday morning
St.Dick: oh man
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: when people shit their pants, i gotta go
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: fuck you christmas
St.Dick: hahaha, are u in pain?
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: am i IMing you from bed?
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: then yes.
St.Dick: HAHAHAHA
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i can’t even muster the strength to get up and eat lucky charms
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: file under “you know it’s bad when”
St.Dick: so awesome
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: i have to put myself in the shower bc i smell like a carton of menthol cigarettes
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: at least they were dunhills
St.Dick: classy
RudolphTheRedNosedAlcoholic: mega classy
St.Dick: well, i gotta get back to work
St.Dick: but I wish you champagne wishes and caviar dreams!

Ahh wedding season! Following the gentleman’s proud display of leadership and courage at the groom’s bachelor party, where he no doubt distinguishly extinguished the gin supply and made charitable donations to the lovely ecdysiasts, a gentleman will attend the main event with gusto and gallantry. While sashaying to the soft rock jams of the band, boomeranging fawning gentladies around the dance floor and exchanging pleasantries with the bride’s family members, a gentleman is also keen to avoid putting cigar burn holes in his favorite fox hair cummerbund or spill his 15th vodka soda as he moves quickly and effortlessly through the gala.

WeddingGent: have you decided to quit drinking after your display at the wedding?
DanceMan: i wasnt aware it was that different from everyone else
WeddingGent: i dont recall ‘everyone else’ fist pumping like they were at a green day concert, jumping around for no reason, high fiving the band, continuously getting turned down to dance by the bride’s mom, and sweating profusely
DanceMan: i guess now that i am sober that does sound stupid
DanceMan: dammit
WeddingGent: yeah it was brutal
WeddingGent: lord knows i was out of it
WeddingGent: in that one picture of you i tagged you can see me accosting a 16 year old in the back ground
DanceMan: hahaha
DanceMan: i just remember dancing for a long time
DanceMan: i have never done that before
WeddingGent: i was sweating my ass off too
DanceMan: and that drunk lib julie kept pulling me back every time i needed a break
WeddingGent: did you french that drunk?
DanceMan: uh…probably
WeddingGent: i love weddings
WeddingGent: i took down a fat chick
WeddingGent: as well as this one…
WeddingGent: http://www.facebook.com/somegentleladie’sprofile
WeddingGent: one on the left
DanceMan: it says i cant view it
DanceMan: wait youre saying 2 chicks hooked up with your unshaven beaten up face?
WeddingGent: three if you count Sonia
WeddingGent: she hooked up with me… the NIGHT after i got hit
DanceMan: good god. whos Sonia
WeddingGent: the one Jameson brought to the wedding hahaha
WeddingGent: God
WeddingGent : fucking adulthood is ruining my life