Posted by: Jeremiah Graves | March 9, 2009

Confessions: Drunken Technophilia



My name is Jeremiah Graves.

…and I have a problem. I’m a Drunken Technophile.

I don’t know how many of all ya’ll out there are prone to this disease as well, but I know my personal battle with Drunken Technophilia has effected the lives of hundreds of good, unsuspecting people.

Drunken texts, drunken Facebook messages, drunken emails and the occasional drunken blog post have all been results of this addiction.

I’ve posted an inordinate number of jibberish messages to friends on Facebook that I don’t find out about until the next day when they’ve replied asking me if my account has been hacked. I’m then forced to explain that my account is safe and I’ve recently discovered that my stomach—but alas, not my brain—can hold an entire case of Coors Light.

The drunken blog posts are something relatively new to my rotation of poor inebriated decision-making. Most of the posts are me ranting and raving about whatever random person, place or thing has annoyed me during my drunken meanderings around the eastern seaboard.

The biggest problem, however, is the emails. I believe at this point I’ve become notorious for sending post-bar emails to friends and co-workers.

Luckily, I’ve yet to receive any sort of litigation regarding any of them. I’ll take that silver-lining as a sign that I’ve either not been completely stalkerish or psychotic in any of the emails and/or all of the emails are so indecipherable that everyone assumes they’re reading some sort of Russian email spam.

This morning I woke up on my couch at like 4:30 and much to my dismay I had my laptop resting on my chest. The only sites that were open were Facebook, and the worst-of-them-all…my work email.

Not Gmail. Not Hotmail…but work email.


So now I’m going through the usual motions to piece together the blurry portions of my evening…

Step One: Check sent text messages. Apparently I got a sub at Hi-Fi last night and found it necessary to send Mat a text alerting him of my drunken dining decisions. Super.

Step Two: Check my Facebook profile to see whether or not I’ve sent a bunch of dumb messages. This one appears safe. Whew.

Step Three: Check my blog(s) for new posts. Nothing new, excellent. Two for three. Not bad.

Step Four: Wait and wait and wait for awkward/frightened/confused email replies from friends and/or co-workers I’ve drunkenly harassed. Good times for everyone.

I’m thinking it’s long overdue for someone to invent a USB Breathalyzer that prevents me from getting online when intoxicated. If they can do it for cars, they can do it for computers…right?!

I think I’ll begin recruiting MIT nerds for this project ASAP.

Until then, however, I’ll just have to keep apologizing for all the dumb things I do when my evenings get a wee-bit hazy and my addiction kicks in.



  1. *ahem* Did someone request a USB breathalizer? Because I think I found one:

    Granted, it’s gmail specific, and not an aaaaaactual breathalizer (like no chance it could stymie Mat, for example), but it’s definitely something.


    • Ah yes…I’ve seen that before. I actually had it installed for a lil bit, but GMAIL is never the problem. For whatever reason, drunk me always decides to wander into my work email account…which in addition to being a horrible idea from the start…allows me no way of tracking what I’ve sent.


  2. Yes! Agreed! I’ve always thought something like a breathalyzer would be possible, but never considered utilizing the USB port. I bet the iPhone has an application like that on the way, at least.

    I developed this stealthy, drunken ninja habit a few years where after a night of shameful drunk texting I would somehow delete all of my message (both sent and received) and wake up totally oblivious to my charades. The good news is I am a nice drunk.


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