The Official Sunday Funday Drink Lineup

======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====

Ah, Sundays. If you’re anything like me, you go to hard on Saturday nights despite repeated assurances that you’d only have “three or four beers.” You probably had grand plans for the weekend a few days ago. You were going to relax, get some chores done, maybe even pick up a hobby or two. Who were you kidding?

Instead, you got too excited, and much like a kid who eats too much ice cream and ends up throwing up in a Cold Stone Creamery, you over indulged. Shots on Friday. All day drinking on Saturday. And on Sunday, despite wanting to lay on the couch and watch Redzone for 11 consecutive hours, you’ve got brunch plans. There’s no denying it. You’re going to drink too much. All you can do is plan what you’re going to drink too much of. Luckily, I’ve done it for you.

One Large Gatorade Frost Glacier Freeze
If it seems like I’m being too picky with the exact flavor of Gatorade you need, you’re already a lost cause. Leading scientists and lovers of America agree that the only Gatorade for beating a hangover is the light blue Glacier Freeze. If they’re out at the store and you have to get a dark blue one, good fucking luck with your day. If you decide to go rogue and purchase a yellow, or (God forsake) a red one, you should stop reading this list now. I refuse to receive pageviews from someone with such horrible taste. If you decide to get a Powerade or Vitamin Water instead, I’m genuinely concerned for your mental and physical health. Pick up a large, light blue Gatorade and use it to wash down as many ibuprofens as you can stomach.

Edit: I’ve been informed this is horrible advice, and you should only consume the recommended dosage of ibuprofen.

One Irish Coffee
The last thing you want to do is be the person who’s clearly struggling at brunch. Of course, everyone went out the night before and is struggling, but there’s always someone who has it worse off. Shaking worse than Michael J. Fox on a cold night, sweating through their wrinkled short-sleeve button down, wearing oversized sunglasses inside; you know who I’m talking about. Don’t be that friend.

While you’re still at home in safe space, fix yourself a coffee with just a splash of Baileys in it to steady your nerves. Brunch is an assault on the senses, a barrage of sights, sounds, smells, and other stimuli that your body is woefully unprepared for. Give yourself a little armor against the world in the form of a light buzz. I’m pretty sure that sentence hit every point on the “Are You An Alcoholic?” pamphlet my guidance counselor gave me when I got suspended for drinking in class my freshman year, but nonetheless, it’s good advice.

A Bloody Mary And As Much Water As You Can Pour In Your Face
Now is not the time to half-ass anything. You made it to brunch, and you need to simultaneously hop back on the bad decision train while bringing yourself back from the brink of death. It’s not easy, but that’s the life you chose.

A Bloody Mary is the greatest vessel to mainline vodka into your stomach without making you throw up on the table. The tomato mix completely masks the horrible taste of booze, and if you’re at any halfway decent joint, it will come with some snacks dipped into it. Sure, celery and a strip of bacon aren’t going to make or break your day, but getting that head start of calories while everyone else waits for their meals is the difference maker. Supplement every sip of your liquid salad (five out of five nutritionists disagree with me on naming it a salad) with several large gulps of water, and by the time the food comes, you’ll be back to something resembling a normal human.

Bottomless Mimosas
No more beating around the bush. It’s game time and this is your only option. If your brunch spot doesn’t offer a bottomless deal on ‘mosas, find another place. I don’t care if you didn’t make the reservation, or if your food has already been ordered. Find. Another. Place.

Bottomless deals run from $15-$25, while a single glass of Mimosa (aka a teaspoon of alcohol) runs around six dollars. That’s just fiscally irresponsible when we all know you’re planning on drinking a disgusting amount of orange juice and champagne.

After about four glasses, you’ll realize your stomach is turning into acid, and in a moment of drunken clarity, realize you have to cut the OJ out of your mimosa and just start slamming glasses of champagne. You will try to maintain that you’re sober despite knocking over your glass multiple times because mimosas are the dirtiest drunk ever. Luckily, this bottomless drink just counts as one drink, so at least you won’t have to lie next time your doctor asks how much you consume in a week.

One Manmosa
Someone’s got to be the alpha in this group, goddamnit, and today it’s going to be you. You order a large stein filled with orange juice, vodka, and champagne, and let everyone know you’re the top dog in these parts. Your friends’ expressions range from disgust to horror to awe to jealousy, depending on how drunk they are.

For a brief moment, you feel on top of the world. Work doesn’t exist, your mistakes of last night are erased, and for a shining minute, you live purely in the present. Past and future are forgotten, and you exist only in a beautiful picture: You, standing on a chair, chugging a disgusting mixture of alcohols while parents shield their kid’s eyes and your friends cheer you on.

A Shot Of Tequila
You fucked up and you know it. The cute server came by with a tray of shots “on the house,” and of course you had to take one. The few sober brain cells you still have tried to get your attention from the back of your brain, but it was a lost cause.

The second you felt that disgusting well liquor slide down your throat, everything came back in a flash. Usually, alcohol makes you forget but this time it makes you remember. Remember that you have an 8 a.m. meeting tomorrow. Remember that you were supposed to call your mom today. Remember that your parents were married at your age, and meanwhile, you had to go splitsies on Plan B not three weeks ago. The moment of drunken purity you had with the Manmosa is gone, and now you’re on the decline. You’re too drunk, and what’s worse, you know that you’re too drunk. Now is your last chance to Irish exit before your brain turns off, and if you–

A Gallon Of Water
You wake up in a panic, half-clothed on your living room couch. Your head feels like someone used it as a bowling ball, and you smell the burnt remains of what could only be a frozen pizza you left in the oven. You stumble your way through your smoky apartment to find a DiGiorno-shaped lump of coal sitting on your counter. You drink water directly from the tap while checking your phone. You see several “where did you go?” texts from your crew, and one “we need to talk about your drunk cooking habits” from your roommate. You ignore all of them, chug water until your stomach hurts, and desperately try and get some sleep before your alarm clock goes off in four hours. .

43

Respond

Email this to a friend

Hey, I saw this on Post Grad Problems. Check it out.

Nick Arcadia

The opposite of a life coach. Email or DM me if you want some bad advice: nickarcadiapgp@gmail.com

• @noampao
• noamio