You know the drill: you over did the beer/bubbles/Bombora and cokes, and it’s time to chow down on some delicious drunk eats. What will it be? A slice of pizza, a big ol’ fry up, perhaps a greasy kebab? Variety is the spice of life, after all.
What you might not know, however, is that there is a fine science behind the drunk eat. What you put in your mouth tells the world everything they need to know about you. And here it is.
I don’t make the rules, people. I just deliver it.
You’re going to be okay, I think. Drunken pizza eaters don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s all about taking life as it comes. And in this instance, it comes with pizza. You’re one of those people that doesn’t really mind if you order coffee and it comes with skim milk – it’s all good in the end. The world is your oyster, and this drunk pizza is just another happy coincidence.
Soaking up your Sambuca with a blend of sweaty rotating meat, pungent garlic sauce, and soggy salad and crispy-but-not bread? There’s only one way to say it. You’ve had your heart stomped on and shattered into one million pieces. And you know what? That’s okay. Take your frustration out on that kebab instead of sending that person 100 drunk messages asking what on earth went wrong. Might be the garlic breath. Might.
Physically can’t wait to go to sleep, wake up, and make breakfast? Okay, jeez. Sounds like someone’s a little on the impatient side. You want that bacon, and by god you want it RIGHT NOW (rum rage, anyone?). And that’s okay, because bacon. This one all comes down to whether you rummaged around your fridge at home (control freak) or bestowed the honour on to your local late-night establishment (micro-managing delegator).
Oh dear. Someone tucked into the Bacardi 151, didn’t they? Shh shhhhh, there’s no need to explain – we’ve all been there. Sounds like you’ve had a tough week and it’s time for a holiday, stat.
What are you, five years old? Is your mother waiting on you outside the room with stegosaurus pyjamas and a tub of Vicks? I bet you even drink it out of those Blinky Bill glasses that was originally a container of Nutella.
Go give yourself a pep talk and swap that milk for a cup of cement. It’s time to harden the f*ck up. When you’re done with that, scramble yourself some eggs and grab some pull-ups; you’re a big kid now.
Swiping right paid off, did it? I have four words for you: bow chicka wow wow. Pancakes are nothing if not post-nookie food, especially when there’s whipped cream and or syrup involved. You go, you drunken pancake eater, just do you.
You can’t even. And you know it. Bottom line is you’re probably basic, because nothing says ‘OMGWHATDIDYOUJUSTSAAAYYYY’ like a Big Mac that you’ll most likely chuck in your mate’s face and Snapchat it before putting your head out the window and woo-ing.
Jokes aside, there’s nothing wrong with a good cheeseburger followed by a satisfying woo.
By the way, yes your Uber driver does indeed listen to your stories and yes he absolutely does judge you. You’ve been warned.
Look out, we’ve got an extrovert on our hands. Your catchphrase is “one more round?” and 9 times out of 10 you insist on karaoke before the night is over. Hence the sudden craving for some Asian goodness. There’s nothing wrong with being the life of the party, my friend, that’s where all life’s good stories come from. Just be sure you don’t hog the mic when it’s time for I Wanna Dance with Somebody.
Betty Crocker Cake Mix
You’re one of those people that will start 10,000 things and never finish them. Don’t even begin to pretend you cooked this. You cracked the eggs, realised a decent amount of shell made it into the bowl, stuck your finger in, then gave up and ate the rest like a soup/Yogo hybrid (bags that as my future band’s name). Don’t feel bad, the batter is half the fun.
Some combination of back-of-the-fridge bits and bobs you chucked in a frypan and realised tasted great
Sometimes… Sometimes you can be too chill. But then again there are times when you cook a scoop of Tuesday’s green curry, a bit of Thursday’s bolognese, some taco seasoning, and a packet of Maggi noodles that you’re pretty sure were there when you moved in, and you’ve given Heston a run for his money. You know what they say about some people being born great…
7/11 Microwave Hot Dog
Someone hurt you, didn’t they? Someone destroyed your soul and left you a hollow shell of a human. Please, please invest in some counselling or at least one of those adult cook books. No-one should have to survive on a packet hot dog. Ever.
Have you no self-respect? I bet you’re one of those people that has three light beers then is so hungover they simply must run it out the next morning. Embrace the drunk eat. The drunk eat is your friend. Now, kindly add a side of bacon to your protein shake and come back for round two.