Jager Bombs

A shot that does more than get you drunk
Jager Bombs step up and get you crunk
Throw one, two or three back
This girl suddenly is beyond wack
Packing mack
In a Chanel sack
Like an instant replay, I see me doing shots
My game exploding like a hellified gunshot
Slo mo, fast forward--it doesn't matter
At any speed, my sobriety is shattered
Was that me talking about the East Side?
And places where heaven and hell collide?
Though I'm not really a liquor connoisseur
These shots bring out my inner provocateur
Jager bomb champion
Must be stamped on my forehead in neon
"Throw it back!" A strange man shouts
Then my brother shows up and my fun is out



A buzzkill happens more often than not
Late at night when you're feeling bloodshot
A stupid girl who talks incessantly
About her relatives in Tennessee
An inconsolable toddler
With a babysitting amateur
These are a couple things that murder my buzzy
Leaving me far less than warm and fuzzy
A buzz is fleeting and easily killed
Just like new shoes are easily billed
People, protect your good times with vigilance
Memories are not made without diligence

Red Wine

Even though I kind of live in a bubble
Red wine still manages to get me into trouble
Just a few sips of a ruby cabernet
Has me showing strangers my lingerie
I don't know why red wine affects me like this
When white wine is nothing more than a gentle kiss
Chardonnay and sauvignon blanc are more friend than foe
While any red wine rocks me into full blown stereo
Pinot noir and merlot make me lose all control
Committing crimes and looking for a loophole
Though my actions are tragic-al
Red wine will always be magical
True, the red grape might put me on my ass
But believe me, there is truth in the bottom of every glass
Maybe I really am an insane type of lass
A glass of red wine bumps my game from coach to first class


Strange Brew

I used to brew my own beer
I drank it, too...let's make things clear
I'd rock some fat diamonds while I stirred my potion
That a homebrewer needs to look rough is an outdated notion
My dreams were about specific gravity and fermentation
Hours were lost thinking about condensation and evaporation
Bottling and capping was no big deal
My beer was so heavy--it was more like a meal
I brewed brown ale, stout and a kick-ass bock
When I finished a batch, my neighbors would knock
We'd hang out and sample all my hard work
Laughing too loud while haters would lurk
In an ideal world, girly girls wouldn't brew
But our planet's not perfect...so what could I do?


Cough Syrup

This isn't a drink you'd order at a bar
If you want to get your drunk on, though, it will take you far
I took it because I had a barky kind of cough
One teaspoon later and I was taking off
I'm not kidding--my body seemed to accelerate
I felt jet-propelled and my synapses seemed to fire late
My head felt spinny
My mouth tasted tinny
I prayed that I had actually taken cough syrup
And not some kind of hallucinogenic
I was talking to people that no one else could see
I applied cosmetics because it's all about me
I fell asleep laughing and when I came to
My psyche laughed back and softly whispered boo...


White Wine Ho

Her husband says she's sinking
And that he's worried about her drinking
She laughs and winks and opens some wine
She thanks God for the glorious grape vine
She loves to swirl her glass and take little sips
Kind of like a swimmer takes little dips
Before long she'll be floating in her buttery drink
Before long she'll be heading out in a coat that's mink
She doesn't like crack but she's a white wine ho
She doesn't want meth, she's got places to go
Her husband called her a chardonnay freak
She'd do anything for a bottle that wasn't weak
She didn't need to leave her hood to find her fix
She just checked out the wine rack to get her kicks
Cakebread, Coppola and Grgich Hills
For her, if there was a way--there was a will
Dinner would burn and her kids would fight
After two sips, she knew it would be all right
In her cashmere sweater and shredded jeans
This girl could care less about the coffee bean
Give her some cool, crisp vino
And she was way beyond fino
Liquor wasn't her style
But she would walk ten miles
And all day
For a bottle of tasty chardonnay

Anatomy of a Hangover

When our girl wakes up after a night of drinking

She can't help but exclaim, "What was I thinking?!"

Visions of the previous night unfold like a horror flick

Her head feels like a soccer ball, surviving kick after kick

She shakes her head gently to measure the ache

Being an it girl is more than her body can take

Our girl checks for ten intact digits and proper length of hair

Her last memory is of playing an extreme game of truth or dare

Her stomach churns--even her blood cells seem mad

Why must she pay this price whenever a good time is had?

Questions race through her mind at a painful speed

This is a cautionary tale, readers--please, take heed

Did she really dance on the bar?

Was that her leaning out of the window of his car?

Respect the hangover and everything it says

Waking up clear headed can only mean better days