So drinking is a hoot. For the most part, you just pee a lot, laugh and dance, maybe take inappropriate photos with strangers, use a fake Australian accent here and there (witnessed this one this weekend, strangely hilarious I might add). And then the next day you think, “Boy, I sure wish I didn’t drink a river of ow last night!” But at least the outcome usually results in a hilarious moment or fourteen. And then you walk down to Starbucks in the morning (like I did this past Sunday) and have this conversation:

Drew: “I’ll have the largest cup of coffee Mr.Starbucks owns. If you have an igloo cooler back there, I’m fine with that.”

Deadpan Starbucks Lady: “We are out of coffee today.”

Drew: “Wait. Really?”

DSL (chuckles to self after writing that acronym): “Yes. Sorry.”

Drew: “That’s like my water faucet telling me it’s out of water.”

(waits for her to laugh at how hillll-arious he is)

…

(is disappointed that she does not find this strangely well timed joked hillll-arious from the not-looking-that-great hungover guy)

Drew: “Um. Okay. Wait we should try this again. Because, I’d really like coffee and I feel that it is odd that the coffee store is out of coffee.”

Okay so I didn’t say the last one. But I thought it, and the canned laughter was out of control in my head. I digress.

The fact is, though, that I’ve certainly been aggressively drinking lately. Which, in a positive “I should be in PR!” spin could be construed as I’ve been having the time of my life lately. And that is true, so the alcoholic devil on my shoulder agrees with me that this is fine. (I ate a boca burger tonight, angel on the other shoulder, you just calm down, that makes up for EVERYTHING)

However, I could probably afford to slow down if I don’t want to weigh 4,285 pounds. Which, for those tallying at home, is larger than most hippopotamus’s. Which are, in fact, one of the most deadly animals in all the land. (IT’S ON THE INTERNET, IT HAS TO BE TRUE.) (Second parentheses sidenote: really? the mosquito is deadlier? I call bullshit.)

So lately, when I’ve been drinking too much, my friend Kelli tells me that to signify this, I should just say “banana”. Which I find hilarious, because this has only ironically pushed me to get drunk enough that I can call her and try and get her to force me to say banana. The safeword has, in fact, turned into the ruh-roh word. And now I just love saying banana whenever anything is out of control.

And I’d say that when I punched a girl in the back after the niners scored a touchdown this weekend (it was meant to be a funny-haha “hey look we’re winning now!” tap?), maybe this was banana’s finest moment. To be fair, she was a Seahawks fan. And if she had turned around? It would have just been a gentle fistbump. And now I get why Chris Brown isn’t that believable a guy.

In honor of my favorite word of the month, I felt it was only fair to name this new little mix after the safeword.

Rocket Shoes Mixtape 11: Say Banana (Because we all need to say banana from time to time)

You can download it here, or click the adorable picture that someone took way to long to knit/needlepoint/whatever that is to listen to it.

And making it’s first “don’t put the same song on two mixtapes, that’s just poor etiquette” debut is Local Natives’ Airplanes. It’s that good a song, and if you missed it, that’s like not knowing that there was a free ice cream cone day at Ben and Jerry’s. Or not knowing that Hermione is actually legal now. Too much? Too much.