There are three types of drunk: The Crier, The Flirt and The Crazy. I am the living embodiment of The Crazy.
We’ve all had one too many so I think you can successfully place yourself in one or all of the above categories.
I cannot dance. Neither can you (before you start gloating). However, after a few Smirnoff Ices I am… Michael Jackson – or so I seem to think.
Apparently, I challenge people to dance-offs. Obviously, I win but that’s not the point.
Not that I can remember any of the competitions but I have been informed that I am extremely competitive. I highly doubt it. I don’t need to be competitive to win. I dance like a pro. Don’t believe me? You wanna dance?
Sibling rivalry. That’s a big one. We don’t compete in who’s the most successful, who got a boyfriend first, who has the most friends etc (because she won). Instead we compete with everything else. We generally fight over who wins an argument. Who doesn’t? I can never tell who wins but I like to think that it’s mostly me.