Drunk Food

Oh fuck man. I quit drinking so I’m out the game unfortunately. I was spending like $800/month on drunk Uber Eats and Grubhub.

Mexican food of course. But not burritos. That’s chump shit. You get tacos. And you get a lot. You get one of each. Maybe 2-3. With all the fiiiixins

So you get yourself like 25 tacos. Because a burrito will just get you full and when you’re drunk, variety is key. And eating a lot of small different things makes you feel like you’ve had a really extravagant meal. Like Mexican Alinea on your couch. It’s like when you meet a girl for a first date and you wanna smash that night, you take her to like 3-4 different spots over the course of the night rather than staying at the same bar and it creates the illusion she’s known you forever and her whoredefenses go down. I thought I was ordering 25 tacos once, but I ordered 25 burritos. Passed out before I finished one. Shameful morning.

So you got all the different tacos and you might walk to the corner store and get like 5-6 different kinds of sauces. That’s on top of what they give you. You get the Panda Express sauce, you get tamari sauce, you go on a google rabbit hole about what the fuck is a tamari anyway on your phone, the checkout girl is staring at you anxiously as you do your research, you pick up some more liquor of course, get the green sauce, the purple sauce, the red sauce. Get like a Powerade Zero to quench your thirst. Now go back home. The tacos should be arriving soon. You mix and match and create like 67 flavor combinations. You watch some funny shit and it’s a great time. Chips and guac too obvi.

There’s Chinese food and then there’s takeout-only Chinese food that only opens at midnight. If you’re in Chicago, Star Kitchen on GrubHub is the fucking shit and a half. You get variety again. Don’t be a fucking novice and get full on rice. You order the egg rolls, the crab rangoon, pot stickers, the bullshit little chicken wings that are like baked in BBQ sauce and are affixed to the paper they come in by the time they arrive, but that shit’s drunk person seasoning, get a General Tso’s Chicken out of respect for the General and Lao Tzu, but listen – this is the most important component of your order – get a sweet & sour soup. Fuck sweet & sour sauce that shit tastes like duck cum. you dip everything in the sweet & sour soup. It’s fucking viscous and permeates the pores of every morsel you dip in there. It drips down your chin and you let it.

Run to the corner store and pick up more liquor and some Kit-Kats while you wait.

Chick-Fil-A is dope drunk food

Popeye’s of course. The shrimp beats the chicken all day. And the seasoned fries with BBQ sauce, which you can also get from the corner store along with the beer you’ll need. Popeye’s and red wine is lowkey fire. So is Popeye’s and rose.

Pizza is for fucking chumps.

You can also do a classy charcuterie drunk. You go to Mariano’s and you go to the cheese area. They have a bunch of small pieces of cheese for like $3-$7 and you can try a bunch of really nice cheeses for like $50. You also get some beautiful Salami. If you get it pre-sliced, go stick your hand in a garbage disposal. You Get some duck or goose pate and some olives. You get three bottles of garnacha and two bottles of port. You go home and you watch a movie from the ’80s and you slice little slivers of cheeses and salamis and pop olives into your mouth like a Roman emperor and you laugh and you cry. The Breakfast Club is not what you remembered it to be. In fact, nothing is.

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