Have you figured out which of us is the alcoholic blogger yet? I'll give you a hint. It starts with K and ends with IM.

Posted by: Kim

So, I have a whole bunch of roommates in a big old house in Boston, and we had a barbecue last weekend. It was epic, as our parties tend to be. We even made roommate 'goals' for the event, based upon previous events. Said goals included things like, "No extreme barfing," "No unaccountable bruises," "No roommate makeout sessions," "No dry-cleaning necessities," and "No furniture destruction." It. Was. Great.

This evening I returned home from work thirsty, looked in the refrigerator and was greeted with a very enticing looking container of organic lemonade.

How nice, I though. Leftovers from a courteous party guest!

I then chugged a glassfull, and brought another with me to settle in on the couch with the 39 press releases I have to write by, oh, last week or so.

Cut to 10 minutes ago, when one of the roommates walks in.

"Oh, heyyyy! Drinking the hard stuff, eh?" He grinned.

"Excuse me?" I replied.

"That lemonade. The kids who brought that spiked the shit out of it! I don't even know with what, but it was lethal," he explained.

I shook my head. "No, no, this is just lemonade. It's still in the lemonade bottle!"

He started laughing. "No, Kim. I know. They spiked it in the bottles."

"No. It's not! It's just lemonade!" I insisted.

"Oh yeah? Okay. Stand up," he suggested. I did. It wasn't pretty.

I. Am. Wasted.