THE FIVE DRUNK ALTER EGOS OF MEN (PART DEAUX!)

 On Tuesday, I did a little post called the Five Drunk Alter Egos of Men. While fun, there's a couple I missed and couldn’t go on without mentioning. For your reading pleasure, here’s the Drunk Alter Egos of Men Part Deaux!

OBNOXIOUS OSCAR

            A man everyone has met; Oscar is a douche.  He’ll be a douche through the night and into the early morning.  He knows exactly what to do and say to piss others off and gives somewhere around zero fucks how they feel about it.  So is he useful?  Of course he is! Every group of girls has an Obnoxious Oscar of their own (Bitchy Beth) and you may need to fight fire with fire.

CRYBABY CARL

            Might as well  grab Kleenex and a Lifetime TV movie because it's about to get emotional. His favorite team loses a game? He whines about it.  Awful week at work?  He whines about it.  Someone makes fun of him or calls him out? Yes, you guessed it, whines about it.  Girl just wants to be friends? Build a dam around his ass because the flood is coming.  Seriously, do some push-ups and get tough!

LARCENY LARRY

            Larry hasn’t been around much since college, but every once in a while; he’ll make an appearance if there’s something worth stealing. Street Signs, beer mugs, shot glasses, t-shirts, Basketball game towels, bottles of green sauce at the Burrito spot?  All targets.  The best part is that he’ll elaborately plan it out and ask friends to keep lookout like it’s some damn Ocean’s eleven sequel.

NOT-DRUNK DARRYL

            He wants to stay out later despite the fact he’s fallen asleep twice.  Thinks he can drive, but he can’t even walk.  Convinced that girl he’s been trying to pick up all night is an eight…when she’s really a three.  Anyone who tries to tell him otherwise faces an unnecessary argument.  See right now it’s a serious shot to Darryl's pride and ego to just accept the assistance. So how do people handle him?  Just knock his ass out and carry him to the car.

WANDERING WILLIAM

            William's phone goes straight to voicemail, won't text back, and he's been missing for an hour. It’s like he’s playing a sick game; last time he disappeared, he ended up in a fountain with no wallet and a Twinkie in his back pocket. So naturally, now whenever he does this shit, friends are worried, hoping he’s not in some dark alley being molested by a gang of bums.  Total evening killer.  Around six or seven in the morning, he'll finally hit people back with a message that simply says, “I’m good!” Ass. At least Waldo wanted to be found.

(SHOUT-OUT TO READERS PAUL, EMILY, AND GABEL FOR THEIR INPUT!)

-WST