I do NOT heart amaretto. Until next weekend anyway...

So, this probably won't be a long post, but because I'm bored here at work (yet again) and haven't posted for a week or so, I thought I'd write something for y'all to read.

Went to Montreal this long weekend with Laurie, Jess and Karen #2 (Jess's mom). The weather was perfect, the shopping was great. The men were ugly but the scenery was nice. The food kinda sucked, but the booze was delightful.

The booze was delightful until Sunday night. Or should I say 'Monday morning.'

Holy crap.

We all went to the Montreal casino. And I loathe gambling because I'm part Jewish and like to keep hoardes of money to myself (yeah, I just kinda made fun of Jews there; deal with it). So, in order to be slightly amused at a type of place I don't usually enjoy, I decided to get a little buzz on. I slowly nursed my drink consisting of an unusual (but tasty) concoction of amaretto and coke. Everybody else had the "harder" liquors going on--vodka, tequila and the like--but I just wasn't feeling that so I felt that amaretto would be a pretty safe bet.

And it WAS pretty safe, until I got ahold of the shot menu. That's when I found the amaretto and orange juice shot. Most people would say that this sounds pretty gross, but to me it sounded wonderful because I'm up for mixing amaretto with pretty much anything.

So I order one and apprehensively drink it, and soon realize that it is indeed quite tasty. I order one more...and then two at a time. After4 or 5 of these shots and a couple amarettos and cokes, I'm definitely getting a good buzz on (keep in mind my tolerance has since subsided since my college days and I'm a relatively little girl).

As much as I loathe gambling, I decide that I MUST be amidst the bright, shiny, dinging and singing slot machine fury. So I get $60 worth of quarters and blow them all in an hour--all the while getting a few more of those yummy OJ and amaretto shots in between changing seats.

And after that, all I remember is the following: dancing with a 75 year old man in a top hat to a crappy band, Jess slapping random people's asses in the casino (really hard, btw) and blaming it on me so they gave ME the I'm-going-to-kill-your-obnoxious-American-ass looks, and a long taxi-ride home with Jess hanging her head out the window like a golden retriever and asking people if they "had any Grey Poupon." Oh, and yeah--folding my wrap around my head like it was a turban and insisting I would go to the next club, the "Cock and Balls," (it's really called the "Cock and Bull", but calling it that "Cock and Balls" sounded funnier to four drunk women) as a white Muslim.

The rest is kind of a blur.

Now, remember how I said Amaretto and orange juice shots tasted REALLY good going down?

Well, they taste pretty shitty coming back up.

Yeah, while I rarely barf after a night of drinking, I barfed Sunday night/Monday morning like it was my full-time job and I was working overtime.

So, the moral of this whole story? Amaretto and OJ is NOT a good combination. And I won't ever do it again.

Until next weekend.

But dear GOD, do I heart Montreal.