My mouth gets me in to trouble. So does a glass of wine or a beer or a white sangria or a regular sangria or...you're getting the picture. One cocktail and I might tell you I don't like your shirt or your boyfriend is a jerk or how I once "dated" three guys on the same street of 9 houses within a few months of each other. Two cocktails and I might tell you about how the potatoes at one popular local restaurant remind me of old man balls...shriveled and wrinkly and to be honest a bit tough and inedible. (At least I didn't tell this to the chef, or even put it on the blog--I normally don't blog and drink at the same time even though it might seem like I do.) Three cocktails and I might insult you, your blog, and possibly your mom, even if I barely know you and actually think you are kind of funny. Oops.
So I am going to apologize for the trouble my mouth has gotten me in to in the past....and I am going to go ahead and apologize for any future things I might say after a couple of cocktails. I swear your shirt/boyfriend/dinner/blog/mom are awesome. (And I swear I am no longer as slutty as that summer of 2007) I am just drinking some haterade!