I'm Not Your Babysitter, That's Why You're Cut Off

Everyone has been cut off from alcohol in their life, and if you are one of the few who hasn't, I'm sure you should have been at least once.  Yes, it's embarrassing, but it's a part of your drinking life that happens.  (It's like farting; no one wants to think about cutting the cheese, but everyone has let one loose.  It's life.)  But there are really good reasons why people get cut off, and not just for your embarrassment.

WE DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE.

Plain and simple.  Reread that statement and pretend I underlined it, italicized it, highlighted it, and pretend Gordon Ramsay is yelling it at you.

When you're cut off, the worst thing you can do is hurl and expect the, "My stomach is empty now, I can drink more" excuse will work, you're not Winning! Charlie Sheen, you're just a drunken idiot; one that just  yakked on my bar.

via 3quarksdaily.com

Vomiting is the best indication that you absolutely, no questions asked, need cut off.  Yeah, you regurgitated the contents of your stomach, but that doesn't mean you made room for another Jack and coke.  The often venerated, "Puke and rally," had to have been made up by the devil who doesn't care if you kick the bucket (and I don't think this Devil wears Prada, probably just a pitchfork).

Also, think twice about lying to me about why you and the toilet were best buds for 20 minutes.  I don't think you were checking out the seat-to-cheek ratios every stall has.  Remember, I'm the sober one.

And, helloooo?  You still have pukey eyes.  It's that obvious.

via smosh.com

Once you're drunk, I have no idea what the heck your rationale might be.  Since I am fresh out of leashes for humans, I refuse to be your babysitter.  (I will say the idea of tethering idiot adults to posts like dogs does amuse me, but I'm going on a limb to say there are probably laws against it.)

Although baby proofing you and hiring a sitter would cover all my bases, tequila will make you do strange things you never thought was possible.  If I treated you like a chicken pox patient, I'd tape socks on your hands so you don't scratch, but then you'd run face first into a wall to see what would happen.

Your best remedy is a designated driver and some sleep.  So next time, don't cuss out your bartenders, thank them.  They want your drunk butt to come in next time.