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There’s a thing called “Sober January” that’s plaguing every millennial from coast to coast. I, unsurprisingly, took part in this wave and decided that it would be prudent for my health to abstain from any alcohol for 31 days while adhering to the Whole 30 diet. How’d that work out for me, you wonder? Fine, until Saturday after a long round of golf when I fell off the wagon and got hammered off two Ranch Waters (margaritas on steroids) and a glass of rosé because I had the tolerance of the toddler.
So yeah, the guilt of not being able to stay sober for a month combined with the traditional Sunday Scaries combined for a unique type of anxiety yesterday. It was nothing a little retail therapy and half-Xan couldn’t fix, and we got right back into the swing of things with some A1 Panic Rooms last night.
I don’t know what makes anyone think it’s a good idea to drink any type of coffee past four o’clock, but I can’t imagine it’s ever a good idea unless you’re hoping your night ends in drunkenly eating pizza after drinking about fifty beers or you have to work late because you dicked around all week.
Zach, you need to abide by the David Ruff School of Vegas and book yourself the 2 a.m. Sunday morning flight back from Vegas so you wake up on Sunday in your own bed that you won’t leave until you have to go to work on Monday. Don’t be the boner who shows up to work smelling like stripper because your flight got in late Monday morning.
The shit-eating grin on this dude’s face combined with his shattered iPhone screen say to me, “I drank all day and am going to hate myself Sunday morning.”
Styrofoam container? Check. Retail therapy? Check. Scented Candle? Mm hmm.
As Ross Bolen said last night in regards to The Skimm’s usage of the word, I “didn’t come up with it, I just popularized it.”
I’m no somm but I feel like that ’15 wine needs to age a little bit more.
You have to be careful with wood wicks. Their crackle is calming, but they burn unevenly and can shorten the life your candle’s burn hours. Still A+ room either way.
0/10 – Man Outfitters > KJP and I’m not just saying that because I’m paid to.
Noted freestyler DJ Crime Dawg with one of the worst Panic Rooms to date.
You’re definitely doing it wrong, Colleen. All I’m saying is that when I woke up yesterday morning and saw a pile of dirty laundry in my room, it was the first thing I took care of. Next to cleaning off your coffee table, doing some laundry is the best small move you can make to trick yourself into thinking you have your life together.
I said this last night but cooooome onnnnnn. The Feng Shui in this room is preposterous.
I originally read this as “cab sauv on ice” and was disgusted with the idea of putting ice in your red wine. That’s reserved for white wine only.
Nope. Don’t talk to me.
Cashmere? Someone got a raise.
I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me but I completely skipped The SAG Awards and watched Atlanta instead. ‘Twas a thicc experience.
We’ve got a vintage Panic Room right here, boys and girls. From the Baggies to the cucumber lime, we’ve got a 10/10.
As someone who has worked numerous Sundays in his life, you have my thoughts and prayers.
I’m just going to say it – if you were watching The Pro Bowl last night, you weren’t doing it right. I don’t care how desperate you are to cling to football season, there’s no reason to watch that.
Illegally streaming that movie is a cry for help. And I’m glad I’m the recipient of it. Well done, Sage.
While Despicable Me might not have been my number one choice, I still respect a good animated feature film to quell the Scaries.
NLU making their first appearance in the rundown. Good for them. Soly, if you’re reading this, hop back on our podcast.
You had me at bird dogs.
Looooooove the move of planning a big event on a Sunday night. Sure, you’ll hate yourself the Sunday following said event but the anticipation is sometimes more fun than the actual trip.
Need to upgrade that Nalgene to a Yeti, bro.
Sandalwood? I like your moves, Tay. Did a healthy amount of research on scented candles last night because my current candle is on its last legs. Beyond scared it might run out next week mid-Panic Room.
Still can’t fathom reading on a Sunday night but different strokes for different folks.
The Simpsons? Really? Just so much better programming out there on a Sunday night.
This just gave me heartburn.
Content cures all, Crash.
As a 30-year-old man who needs 8 hours of sleep but can’t sleep in past 8 a.m., the idea of staying up until 4 in the morning is out of the question. I just hope you won and had some deep pockets this morning.
There’s truly no sweeter sound to anxious ears than the sound of puppy snores. Spent way too much time looking at pups online this weekend and prematurely choosing names.
Wait, people are still sticking to their resolutions?
Working from home on a Monday is second only to taking Monday off. I hope you just keep that shirt on for your entire work day.
May the force be with you for the remainder of #SoberJanuary.
No offense, but… so fucking glad Green Bay lost.
And here we have someone who realizes just how fucking shitty The Pro Bowl actually is. Kudos, Doug.
Short week? SCARIES BE GONE.
If you don’t write us a column about teaching sex ed at a Catholic school, I don’t want to run the content game anymore.
10/10. Be careful with that shephard’s pie, though. Gained about twenty pounds when I was 18 because I ate nothing but chicken pot pie for three months. No regrets, though.
Gym on a Sunday night? Get off your high horse.
Puppies puppies puppies. Xanax Xanax Xanax. You’re doing this right.
Not all heroes eat family-sized tortellini.
You need someone to clean up those cords. It’s giving me a headache looking at them.
Ahhhh, that’s the chaser we all needed. .