Blame it on the Alcohol
Written by
Janis Todd-Randall, BA, MA, EMBA
Stupidbubble Founder
A love letter to bad decisions, loose lips, and humanity’s favorite scapegoat.
Jamie Foxx had the whole club chanting “Blame it on the Goose, got you feelin’ loose…” and we’ve been blaming the Goose, the Henny, the Patron — hell, even that cheap boxed wine — ever since.
Because when you do something reckless, humiliating, or straight-up toxic, what’s easier than whispering: “It wasn’t really me… it was the tequila.”
Well, here’s your reality check: the booze didn’t make you do shit. It just gave you the nerve to do what you low-key wanted to do all along.
Alcohol: The World’s Messiest Truth Serum
Let’s stop pretending your drink order came with a personality transplant.
Alcohol isn’t a magician — it’s a magnifier.
It doesn’t invent that mean streak, that risky text, or that petty meltdown.
It just drags them out of the basement, hands them the mic, and cranks up the volume.
So, when you’re three shots deep, singing karaoke on a table while texting your ex, remember: that’s not tequila talking — that’s you with your filter turned off.
The Alter Ego Myth
We love to romanticize Drunk Us.
“Oh, I’m a fun drunk.”
“I’m a flirty drunk.”
“I’m a mean drunk, but only when provoked.”
Wake the hell up! If you’re a mean drunk, you’re probably just mean, period — you’re just too polite (or sober) to say the shit you’re really thinking.
And while we’re at it, if every time you drink, you become a hot, embarrassing mess! You’re not “fun” — you’re exhausting.
The “Sorry I Was Drunk” Hall Pass
“Sorry, I was drunk” is basically adult peek-a-boo for accountability.
Cheated? Blame it on the vodka.
Fought your best friend? Blame the whiskey.
Showed your entire toxic ass on Instagram Live? Blame the mimosas.
Come on. At some point, the alcohol excuse is just you refusing to admit you’ve got some unhealed parts that love the chaos. Because guess what? Booze doesn’t build your character — it exposes it.
Why the Buzz Feels Better Than the Boring Truth
Here’s the real: you’re not just drinking to relax. You’re drinking to hush the voices that tell you to act right. To stop you from feeling numb. To feel brave enough to say the things you swallow sober.
It’s a Band-Aid on a bullet wound, and you’re shocked when you wake up still bleeding.
Cool, have your Drinks — But Stay Real
Look, this isn’t an anti-cocktail rant. Raise your glass, toast your people, live your life. But if every sip is an excuse to unleash your inner crazy— maybe it’s time to get some therapy, instead of another drink from a bartender.
Be grown enough to admit: “It wasn’t just the alcohol. It was me. And maybe Sober Me needs to get my shit together.”
Last Call on Alcohol: Let’s Stop Lying to Ourselves
Alcohol didn’t make you cheat.
The bottle didn’t make you fight.
The shots didn’t send that “I miss you” text to your toxic ex at 2 a.m.
The real villain? You — the parts of you, you keep pretending don’t exist after the bottles are empty.
So next time you’re tempted to blame the Henny for your hot mess moment, do us all a favor: look in the mirror, clink your glass, and say, “Cheers to the truth — it was me.”
Now your turn:
What’s the wildest shit you’ve ever blamed on alcohol?
Drop your stories below. No judgment — "Everybody has a Stupidbubble."
Let’s laugh, cringe, and maybe promise ourselves to keep the filter on — Goose or no damn Goose. 🥂🔥
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