Letter of Resignation

Good luck in South America. I hope the duke appreciates your work
and they have the kind of ham you like. Good luck with that tire. It hasn’t
been the same since you ran over the fireworks I left in the driveway.
Good luck

getting your book jacket printed on time in the right shade of ocher.
Good luck finding a date for the opera. I’m sure it won’t be hard
what with your hair like that and a miniseries in the works. If you see
my earring

leave it on the nightstand and water it daily. It shouldn’t give you any trouble.
If you wake up in the desert, drink gasoline. It will save your life, if only
for a day. If I haven’t left by now it’s just because I don’t like the look
of those birds.

If you get this note, tear it into pieces before you read it. If the wind picks up,
scatter my ashes at the border. I’ll sweep them later. If it’s nighttime
when you get to Buenos Aires, go to the nearest train station and pray
for the rains to hold.

The Drinking Girl’s Guide to Hell: Dyscaffeination Edition!!


cats and fireworks

Every now and then — upon awakening from a good 36-hour nap, for example — one feels the need to be jolted out of one’s deep-vein thrombosis with something a little stronger than your garden-variety Advil smoothie. Today was one of those days.

You see, I’ve been recovering from the demands of last weekend’s packed social calendar, including several of those glamorous “theme” parties that are so popular lately. The first one (which took place in my very own kitchen!) had an “On Hold with the Pharmacy” motif and featured a lovely vodka-based punch made from an aromatic blend of ingredients, all of them vodka! After I threw my phone against the wall and the crowd thinned out to play with its toy mouse, I made my way to a gala “Mopping Rainwater from My Basement While Drinking Boxwine” bash. I’m a little mortified to admit it, but by the time I drove upstairs for Saturday night’s big “Try to Remember Which Door Goes to the Bedroom” benefit, I was a wee bit tipsy.

As the first glare of this morning’s afternoon sun hit the mayonnaise jar I had cleverly repurposed as a sleep mask, I quickly realized that I would need to either (a) make “coffee” by brewing kitty litter again or (b) risk the censure of an imperious world by going to the 7-11 for a Venti Unleaded Premium.

One of the really special features of my local 7-11 is its astonishing variety of coffees. In the course of my visit, I enjoyed quite a few of those little 16-ounce free sample cups, in flavors I couldn’t quite place but presume included the following:

  1. Turkish Prison
  2. Scorchaccino
  3. Quattro Stenchioni
  4. Cheesedog Wrapper
  5. Moist Towelette
  6. Double Vision
  7. Trashcan Fire
  8. Crust

As you can imagine, the ensuing amphetamine rush began to play havoc with my internal space-time continuum. The last thing I remember is the sound of cheese puffs beating their wings against their plastic containers as the maitre d’ attempted to deactivate me with a bucket of cold Slurpee.

cat doctor
Luckily, the 7-11 is within screaming distance of one of the lesser Liquor-All outlets, and I was soon able to restore my electrolytes to a healthy level in the 80 proof range. By the time I hydroplaned home, everything was back to normal, as you can see.

Funny Fish
Now here it is, morning, or whatever, all over again. Perhaps we can help things go a little more smoothly this time with a beverage that not only starts your day but finishes it too! This one almost always does the trick for me.

The Contraindicator


Little pink pills
Round ones with line down the middle
Yellow capsules from under the sofa
The one with all the warning labels
Might just be a tic-tac, but what the hell
Flax seeds


  1. Place ingredients in cup and add anything, really.
  2. Stir and enjoy!

Auf Wiedersehen, baby!! Bis später!!!!

Good Morning my dear friends...


 Tomorrow: The Today You Worried About Yesterday, With Good Reason









The Drinking Girl’s Guide to Hell: Resurrection Infection!!!


jesus cat

So today we find out if Jesus sees his shadow and goes back into his cave for six more weeks of winter. Personally, I’m all for it, especially after getting a little overzealous with my DIY rust-oleum facial peel last night. Nothing that a little outpatient baby skin transplant wouldn’t cure. Of course, now that the FBI crime scene investigation unit has sealed off my next-door neighbor’s day care, my source has dried up.

No matter. Jesus had something or other to say about lepers, probably along the lines of “Here, wearest thou this polar bear ski mask to the grocery store again and if anyone looks at you funny tell them that thou art beloved above all single middle-aged women by thine cats, and that’s plenty good enough for thou!”

Still, why ask for trouble? Even if it means having to dip into the emergency stash of Ol’ Grandad-flavored schnapps that made you so nauseous during last year’s Lady of Perpetual Failure celebration, at least staying quarantined for the holidays means you can finish up all those fun craft projects that have been blocking access to whatever’s making that burning smell in the basement.

Here’s one I think you’ll like. I call it:

Futile Attempt #973: Easter Diorama

To start, you’ll need some common, everyday household tools. Possibly some of these would work:

tool drawer
Here’s what I ended up using:

diorama tools
Now comes the tricky part, so pick your head up off the counter and pay attention.

Step 1: Carefully detach first peep (part #1A) from other peeps (part #1B, part #1C).

photo (18)
Step 2: Tie first peep (part #1A) to chocolate cross (part #2). Note: Chocolate cross sold separately. 

photo (19)
Don’t be afraid to use plenty of tape!

photo (20)
Step 3: Arrange other peeps (part #1B, part #1C) around some sort of three-dimensional prop, like this bitchin’ race car (part #8A).

photo (21)
Step 4: Lean everything against a cool background, like this Transformer Pop-Up Activity Place Mat (part #12R). Note: Transformer Pop-Up Activity Place Mat sold separately. I got mine at the dollar store, for 75¢!!

photo (22)

Your diorama is finished!!!!!!!

peeps diorama 2
Don’t forget to celebrate!!

photo (23)

Merry Peepster, everybody!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


The Drinking Girl’s Guide to Hell: Annual Self-Pity Edition!!


If a single middle-aged woman doesn’t leave her house to take out her trash for three months, does it make a sound?

I’m sure those nosy nellies at the EPA could answer that, if they weren’t so busy fiddling with their respirators.

My point is, winter in a small northern town can be endlessly seamy…er, seemingly endless. The parched Christmas tree slumps dishearteningly over the woodstove. The cats refuse their gumdrops, demanding fresh meat. The floor lamp stops speaking to me. And to top it off, just this morning, as I started out on a quick, undoubtedly fatal trip to Liquor-All, my car screamed and sputtered and broke into pieces in the driveway like a drunken toddler. Sadly, Liquor-All would have to wait.

One could get all whiney about a situation like this, but really, what good would it do, now that 911 has blocked my calls? Just as our ancestors survived with nothing to eat except something questionable in Saran Wrap, so can I. Of course, the question remains: I need wine.

Which brings me to my next point. Those of you who, out of morbid curiosity or acute boredom, have been following my posts no doubt recall that my original goal was to offer simple recipes for one that one could cook for oneself if one were completely alone and without hope — and aren’t we all? Naturally, over the course of time, the witless dinosaurs evolved into my exes, and this blog evolved into a desperate plea for help…. I mean, a collection of cocktails that could be made with little money and even less effort by absolutely anyone with low standards.

Today, I would like to turn back the clock to those heady days of preparing food items and eating them alone on the kitchen floor, a time of innocence when the refrigerator was used for something other than hiding evidence. But don’t worry! We’ll start off with an easy one. I like to call this:

Basic Nourishment for Single Middle-Aged Woman with Alcohol Dependency 


1/3 carton freezer-crystal flavored ice cream
6 or 7 blue-cheese stuffed olives, cheese dislodged and floating in olive juice
2 fingers peanut butter
A couple spoons of dry muesli
Powdered macaroni cheese stirred into yogurt, cause maybe it’ll be like dip?
Top layer of wedding cake from 1986


1. Consume ingredients in any order while staring at smudge on wall where dead mosquito used to be.
2. Drink wine.
3. Weep.

Wow, that was fun! And guess what? We get to do it again tomorrow!! And the day after that! And the day after that. And, actually, every day until we fall into a senseless heap and silently rot while the cats eat our faces off.

Hasta fuego!

Tomorrow: Second Annual Self-Pity Edition!!

The Drinking Girls’ Guide to Hell: SOTU Rebuttal!

Never one to miss an opportunity for a drinking game, even if it involves having to think of something other than myself, I had a lovely morning tuning into a relapse of the president’s speech, which I had forgotten all about until my next-door neighbor got all political and live-telephoned me some thoughts about the state of the mound of used kitty litter in my backyard, to which I say you find a plumber whose insurance company will let him come to my house again and I’ll gladly take my personal grooming back indoors, thank you very much!

My point is, a drinking game is only as good as the amount of liquor that’s being drankened. Here’s one of my favorites.

  1. Choose a few key terms that you think might come up in the speech, and refill your basin of wine whenever they’re said. For example, this morning I chose the terms “the” “but” and “to”. And “and”. But if you’re having trouble coming up with specific words like these, feel free to just use letters. For an extra challenge, use all of them!
  2. What speech?


Now that you’ve done your political duty and are ready to start the day, why not put all those highfalutin words into action and bypass your recalcitrant, do-nothing consciousness with some executive orders of your own? Feel free to give these a try.

  1. I’m sticking to my all-of-the-above energy strategy by ignoring both the gas leak and the handy, solar-friendly roof opening I made during that flaming rum ball incident.
  2. Finish the job on immigration reform so that talented individuals like me can get temporary permission to cross state lines and take part in Liquor-All’s Shots-for-Tots FUNraiser.
  3. It’s time to do away with workplace policies that belong in a Mad Men episode, except for those snazzy bar-carts.
  4. Raise wages for hard-working people with full-time jobs, like me. Ha! Just kidding.

Well, that’s just about when I passed out on the floor… er, turned off the set. Since it’s nearly breakfast time, how about raising our glass to the greatest nation in the country with a patriotic cocktail? This one should make you see stars ‘n stripes!

jello 2

Land of the Free Drinks

Four score and seven years ago, when I became old enough to buy myself a nice bottle of bathtub gin, I realized that my slender income would cover either a steady supply of alcohol or a career in hypochondria — but not both. Bootstrap-puller that I am, I set forth upon this new nation’s happy hours to pilfer as much voluntary liquor as I could find. Along the way, I learned a few tricks, which I share with you now.


Large empty container
Large outerwear
Large underwear
Low expectations
Bad manners


  1. 2:00 pm, distillery tour. After you sample, ask to buy a few cases. Fill your tupperware while cases are being fetched. Leave in a huff when your Diskount-Chopper FLex-piration card is declined. (American value upheld: Justice!)
  2. 4:00 pm, grocery store wine tasting. Once you’ve been to the table a few times and that perky customer service lady starts to look nervous, you’re going to have to get creative. Try drawing a face on your hat and walking in backwards. (American value upheld: Ingenuity!)
  3. 5:00 pm, bar. Steal people’s drinks. (American value upheld: Spunkiness!)
  4. 7:00 pm, neighbors’ recycling bins. Someone must have thrown out some expired NyQuil, right? (American value upheld: Civic responsibility!)
  5. 8:00, home. Maybe you can squeeze some more wine out of last night’s box. (American value upheld: Irrational belief system!)

Sweet dreams, America!

Tomorrow: Deportation — How Likely Is It, Really?

The Drinking Girl’s Guide to Hell: You Say Hospital, I Say Very Bad Place to Have a Hangover


Here’s the first thing you need to know about hospitals: happy hour sucks.

Luckily, the hospital I frequent most frequently is just around the corner from a lovely all-night liquor store that carries a number of screw-top bottles in convenient purse sizes, assuming your purse isn’t one of those puny 13-gallon kitchen trash bags but more of a leaf-n-lawn type.

On my most recent visit, having smuggled my clanking luggage up the escalator to the Fall Risk Department, I set about finding an empty window seat in which to lie back, relax, and ring for the stewardess to bring me my complimentary sedative. As usual, I had to wait and wait while the nurses dealt with all sorts of yelling and hysterics, but once they finally got me to calm down I began to luxuriate in the extravagance of a fresh diaper as waves of sleepiness took hold of me and I…..

Where was I?

Now, the one thing you must know before you check into your local Sisters of Mercy Day Spa is that leaving can be a tricky business. Before they untie those restraints, you’re probably going to have to answer a few questions. Here’s a little practice quiz to get you started:

  1. How much alcohol do you drink in a day? a) some; b) most; c) all.
  2. Do you have any illegal substances in your home? a) yes, my ex’s new girlfriend; b) maybe, she was here a minute ago; c) no, damn worthless “chew-proof” leashes.
  3. If you felt the urge to harm someone you were close to until that night they dumped you for their 22-year-old assistant, leaving you to shovel snow off your roof at 3:00 in the morning drunk and wearing the same stained flannel nightgown you’ve had on for six days, what would you do? a) yes.

How many did you get right?

Unfortunately, coming home from a hospital staycation can be a bummer. Let’s ease the transition into the “working” week with a nice cocktail to remind us of those happy days of morphine pumps, roomy gowns, and free bendy straws.

The Corpse Sedater


Diazepam 10 mg t q4h prn
NyQuil 32 oz po tid
Ethanol 5oo mL IV ad lib
Leftover Christmas candy 750 gr whenever I fucking feel like it


  1. Avoid exposure to sunlight by keeping head under covers at all times.
  2. Do not operate heavy machinery like last time.
  3. Limit contact with the elderly and infirm, because gross!
  4. Refill as needed every 24 hours or as soon as you wake up, whichever comes first.

Get Well Sooner or Later!!!

Tomorrow: Lobotomy for Dummies

The Drinking Girl’s Guide to Hell: Backwards Day!!


.yeksihw deen I

And why do I deen yeksihw, you may ask? Because it’s Backwards Day–that special day I spend undoing all the mistakes I made yesterday! Here’s my list so far:

  1. Take down my profile on AlmostParoled.com.
  2. Apologize to the neighbors for the mercury spill.
  3. Return the backhoe.
  4. Grow back my left pinky.

Days that don’t go your way can make you wonder why you even bother getting up off the floor each morning. But they can also be very instructive. For example, I learned that the annoying “engine emergency” light that I duct-taped over meant that my car needed oil! That should be easy enough to fix, right? But since it still wouldn’t run even after all that hydrofracking in my ex’s front yard, I had to spend half my morning calling both people on my phone contact list to see if one of them would haul it away for me. After the prescription hotline said no, I was stumped.

But not out!

By staring at one spot on the wall very hard for the next few hours, I managed to remember the name of the car store. I could take it to their exchange department for store credit!

Lucky for me, the car store is on the way to the liquor store, so I could follow my burnt rubber tracks. Having finally persuaded the nice blind lady next door to give me a lift, I made it to Liquor-All and bought myself a big bottle of whiskey to help me forget about my stupid broken car. So you see? If you believe in yourself and follow your bliss, the universe will provide your roommate’s spare change!

Let’s celebrate with a honking big cocktail before we get tired and brake into the Preloved Mattress store again for a good night’s sleep. This one should make you lose your car keys!

The DUI-menator


Car repair waiting room
Day-old coffee
Scary donuts
Tundra Today magazine
Unclaimed toddler
Flask of whiskey
All the time in the fucking world


  1. Go to sleep.
  2. Wake up on another planet. Neptune, maybe.

Now that’s what I call a productive day!

!pu smottoB

Tomorrow: Opposite Backwards Day!! 

This is day  110  of the “Race to Cure Crankiness” post-a-day challenge.
I have earned −$91.15  toward a facelift & bottle of whiskey.