Mood:  celebratory

I imbibed like nobody’s business for numerous days while on vacation. So did my sister’s partner Neeqs. Well, it was her ‘yeah my security clearance finally came through’ party so totally understandable. But then again, I was quaffing down mango margaritas like water and Neeqs was slamming tequila shots. 5’4, 100lbs soaking wet, no dinner, some beer….Oh and 7 tequila shots. Yes, 7.

Needless to say someone was hurling like a Technicolor Gatling gun in the bathroom and that someone was definitely not me. Sis went in to check on her and Neeqs had her entire head in the toilet….having just roarked rather magnificently! She also had managed to change into jeans. Why you ask? Well, we weren’t really sure as usually when drunkenly sick or sickenly drunk, you want sweat pants, boxer shorts or your own nekkidness on the oh so cool tile or linoleum floor. Not so much the jeans…. not that I speak from experience or anything. But anywho, sis got her a cool wash cloth and some water.

How’re you doing?

“Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.” Came from the partially clad but no-longer-spewing heap on the bathroom floor. Right. So sis propped her up sideways for the duration and locked Ginger, otherwise known as Lazarus the Chihuahua who rose from the dead, in the bathroom with her. (NOTE: I just can’t do vomit: see an earlier entry). We figured that 1) Neeqs wouldn’t choke a la Morrison, Hendrix, Joplin, Bonham, et al, on her side and much, much worse of us (yes, we’re horrid easily amused people) 2) that if she did throw up, perhaps Ginger would make like a good little vacuum cleaner for the team. I know demented but what else would you expect from me and, by extension as partner in crime, my sister?

No need to get all shades of belligerent! We had the doggy gate up in the doorway and everyone checked on her on a regular basis. as it was free amusement…..erm, I mean as she was the Guest of Honor and everything.

Yeah.