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Whatchu Talmbout?

don't let the doorknob hit you, where the injection shots made you thicker.

Last night after an eight month hiatus from the club scene, I attended my old Hollywood stomping ground, Sugar. For whatever reason they decided to have a Keri Hilson listening party without a Keri Hilson in sight but thats beside the point. The music was right (once they took Keri Hilson’s slick talkin ass off), my BAC was above 0.08, it was packed, seen some familiar faces and everything was cool.

Typically when I go to the club, I usually drive so I don’t really be tryna OD on the alcohol because I have other people with me and you know when you crash from driving drunk, the driver be the only muhfucka who don’t die. At any rate, I’ve made a new friend who loves to drive and I certainly am not going to deprive them of that privalege(?). Since I didn’t have to drive I started drinking at the house and mixed a potent Tangurey and Tonic, my signature drink for when I am tryna get the pourty stourted. From there, we left the house and got to the gas station where the only thing that was enticing to me was a 4 pack of individual Pinot Noir and for gas station wine, wasn’t too bad. I downed 3 of those by the time we got to the club which had me feelin pretty good. About an hour into the club, I ordered another Tangurey and tonic and that pretty much did it for me. It didn’t matter what song came on because I was definitely feeling myself and no one could tell me anything.

Then “Stanky Leg” came on.

I can’t speak for anyone else but now that I am a college graduate, I don’t know if it is appropriate for me to be tryna do the Stanky Leg (and know the lyrics to it since it is on my iPod) but i digress, I stanky legged, dougied, jerked, harlem shook, 1-2 stepped, halle berryed (berried?), bankhead bounced, stepped in the name of love and chicken noodle souped like I never have before and the correlation that I have to make to explain why my dancing was so “on-point” is the amount of alcohol I consumed that night.

I’m usually an “ok” dancer, I usually am too busy trying to look cool with sunglasses at night, blackberry in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other, subtley swaying with the music but last night…all I’m saying is that no shades were worn.

One of two things could be used to explain the phenomona that is improved dancing under the influence. The first is that I was so fucked up that “I thought” that I was really putting it down on the dance floor better than I actually was or two, the increase in my usual alcohol intake at these events allowed me to take more risks and just “not give a fuck” about looking cool which unleashed the dancing fool that I have always had within me.

I don’t know what it was and I am not so sure that I care but I will offer some advice to those who are Rhythmically Challenged (not naming any nationalities): take some drinks, more or less depending on your race because we all know some white girls can be mistaken for having a seizure when they are busting a move how well you dance sober and do what Jamie Foxx says and blame it on the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-alcohol.



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