A belated Valentine to my boyfriend, Jack Daniels

Dearest Jack,

I cheated on you this weekend.

Like a dumbass cheating bitchwhore, I had an affair with some Absolut Pear vodka at a party on Saturday night.

I ignored the immortal words of Frank Sinatra  ”A lady doesn’t leave her escort…It isn’t fair…It isn’t nice…A lady doesn’t wander all over the room and blow on some other guy’s dice.”

Jack, I blew on some other guy’s dice, and I am sorry, sorry, sorry. I mean, I started out the night with a nice glass of you and perfect social anxiety-quashing buzz, while carrying a plate of handmade chocolate covered strawberries to the hostess.

But when I got to the party, there was a fancy martini bar. Carafes of different flavors…pomegranate, pink cosmo, appletini…and pear, were all arranged in a huge, gorgeous bowl of snow, with beautiful martini glasses and garnishes from which to choose.

I looked over at the ‘regular’ bar and I saw you, Jack. I said to myself: I should just get a Jack and Ginger. Safe. No headaches, no hangovers, no blackouts and having to ask people the next day what I did and said.

But I let that DIRTY WHORE pear martini suck me in (and let me suck IT in) again and again and again, leading to a night of horrific drunken abandon that included (I was told the next day) loudly insulting one of my children’s athletic coaches…who was in the room.

My husband BOB’s first words in the morning?

“I knew it was time to take you home when you started fucking the icicle.”

Me: “Wha?”

BOB: “Yeah, you were on the front porch of the house dry humping a 4 foot icicle and talking about how your readers are always saying how cool it is to fuck frozen things like popsicles.”

Me: “No. Ohmygod, no. Did anyone see me?”

BOB: “I took you home when you started trying to take your pants off, then you blacked out, fell, hit your head and puked all over the bedroom.”

Me: “Why is there so much light in this room?”

BOB: “Then you said: if I don’t remember this, remember later that I want to fuck icicles.”

Me: “zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz………………………”

And the next day, Jack? My husband helpfully sent me this link. I pointed out, after eating 800 mg of Motrin for breakfast, that it’s not even from my sex toy SPONSOR, but that I would see what edenfantasys has in the Dicksicle category asap….

Anyway, I just want to say that from now on, there is no other booze for me. Not that I am likely to be invited anywhere after insulting party guests, being forced to find new soccer leagues for my kids and acting like a general asshole douchesicle ice whore.

But from now on? You’re the only liquor for me.

I love you, and I’m so, so sorry.

Love,

marymac