My Last Name

Last night I got served a little bit too much of that Mic Ultra, baby
Last night I did things I'm not proud of and I got a little lazy
Last night I met my boys at the bowling alley, and I scored worse than my baby

And I didn't represent my last name
My Momma would be so ashamed
It started out "Hey sweetie, what'll be?"
And it ended up "Oh no what have done?"
And I didn't represent last name-Wooo!!!

When looking for a family friendly place to celebrate New Year's Eve you're choices are pretty limited. It's either fireworks downtown surrounded by hoards of crazy,drunk adults, staying at home and watching Ryan Seacrest slow rise to world domination at Times Square, or hanging out in a germ infested bowling alley. We opted for Royal Lanes, where you would think only the upper crust of society is allowed behind the velvet ropes. As it turns out though, the crowd was mostly rednecks with no Kings in sight.

At first I was feeling like a Queen, knocking down pins left in right, but that was before the carb friendly single plastic cup of frothy Michelob Ultra(the weakest beer ever brewed) kicked in. Afterwards, no amount of hugs or love pats on the backside for luck could pull me out of the gutter. I don't know what's more humiliating, scoring a 67 or not being able to handle a minuscule amount of alcohol. Maybe my maiden name, Cummiskey, really is Polish as a true Irish Catholic could chug pint after pint of Guinness and no one would be the wiser.