Ah, Saturday! What an unassuming glorious day. I mean where do I even begin? I think I need to start at the grocery store and the clearing of the beer shelf. 5 packs of Miller High Life camouflage Fall edition tall boys. These are the cans that say,”enjoy after the adventure.” For you rednecks at home it means even though they are camo, consume after hunting so you don’t pull a Cheney. The beer was acquired and with Winston riding shot-gun we were off to Chocolate Bear’s house for the big game.
We gathered for all important SEC championship game, in which the Florida Gators defeated Alabama 31-20 securing their position in the BCS Championship game. It is great to be a Florida Gator! Well, being a part of the Gator Nation means by inherent right, you have to know how to tail-gate and or consume mass quantity’s of beer.
The first beer was cracked at 3:45 p.m. and as you can see Chocolate Bear was “reprezentin'”
During the game Sis called to inform me that her crew was doing shots every time Florida scored; CB and I thought about this and voted no due to our track record of stupidity after shots. So the game goes on and 20 beers go down between CB, JP, and just a little bit for Winston. By this time we were on the express train to hammeredville riding first class.
So what does any self respecting drunk person do? That’s right, pulled out the phone and started calling everyone we knew. This took place around 7:30 p.m. One taker on our offer of fun and exotic adventures was Jew Slacks. Though, we weren’t prepared for his offer.
Jew Slacks Rolled through and convinced Chocolate Bear that it would be a great idea to go downtown to this emo bar, which is really not my scene. I protested with vigor, giving the argument that we should just stay put because we were supposed to go golf with the Russian Mafia in the morning. My pleas fell on deaf ears. I then countered with a brisk assessment of our financial well being, reminding everyone that CB is unemployed and well lets just say I am not too far off from there as well. Then I heard something from Jew Slacks I though I would never hear, “I got you guys covered.” Wait a minute I have to be wasted, did I just hear that? My argument is now null and void, siempre loco. Though he did throw some bullshit speech about not cock-blocking him or getting us tossed out of the joint. We called shenanigans on said speech and made no such promises.
Jew Slacks was the designated driver and bank roller all wrapped up in one nice package. As I recall the can did say enjoy after the adventure, but who am I to follow that rule. We arrive downtown in time to dodge the cover charge. I hate cover charges by the way, especially at a bar. I mean come on, you mark up the drinks by 20 to 50 percent, why do you have to break my balls in the process. Anyways, we get our drunk band and immediately bounce next door to my spot. Walking up we run into an old friend working the door. Good ‘ol Jeb who bares a striking resemblance to Elvis. Imagine this scene as you walk up to the door of a bar. A large black man thumb wrestling Elvis, while a very hammered heavily tattooed was hitting on a very attractive policewoman; she was not having any of my non-sense, her loss. Yea it was like that! Hell we were even checking ID’s while we were at it. Shit, now that I think about it we were kind of official and should have charged a cover to our little show. Damn another missed opportunity.
11:30 rolled around and we caught up with Jew Slacks at the emo bar, damn there are some lame ass people there. Lame in the sense that they believe they are vampires and or a dark damned soul. LAME! Give it up people. Individuality does not mean doing what the rest of fucktards are doing. I digress. By this time I was blitzkrieg drunk at the bar and things were not making a bit of sense to me. The kind of drunk were my mouth runs as if it was Niagara Falls. I do not recall a lot of the evening who made the call to get pizza, but it was the best idea of the evening. I really don’t remember what kind of pizza it was, though this morning I burped and think pepperoni and garlic was involved. I do recall making fun of a cop in the pizza place and freaking out CB and Jew Slacks with my antics, but the cop was cool about it thank god.
I don’t remember how I made it out of downtown, but I did. On the way home while Jew Slacks was navigating I got the brilliant idea to drunk dial a girl that called earlier in the evening. It didn’t go bad but I couldn’t tell ya if it went well either. Arrived home about 1:00 a.m. lit like a Christmas tree. I had left the backdoor unlocked when I left so I didn’t have to take my keys with me. I guess you can imagine my suprise when I came home to a locked door! I saw that roomy#2’s door was open and he was home, so I did what any good roommate does when hammered at 1:00 a.m., I pounded on the door relentlessly, kind of manic/psychotic. And in my infinate wisdom when he finally opened the door I said something like “why the hell would you lock the door?” A duh retard would have worked well in this situation. Came in slammed some doors…Done. Fried.
10:30 a.m: Damage assessment. Foggy, yet light and clear. Realized I had a wild night and recovery meal for under $25.00. It is amazing what one can accomplish when the means are not there. While rummaging for food relaizing I am broke and have no food, I now see the need for a girlfriend who can cook; it is good to know that the dollar menu exists. Called up Chocolate Bear and said, “Okay that was nuts. I told you we should have stayed in.” He agreed. Next time I will not be out voted. Roomy#2 was debriefed and all is well.
By the way, the Russian Mafia was totally pissed about me missing golf on Sunday.