When the Cat’s Away [Part II]
Ok, I have a confession to make. I wrote the entirety of this blog hammered sometime around 3:00 am on Sunday morning. Iíve edited out the spelling mistakes and fixed the grammar only where I was Loaf-ing. My sober comments are separated in italics, mostly trying to explain what I originally had trouble deciphering, and for additional, coherent thought.
Happy Birthday to me! Or was that only last night? So this is too good not to post almost immediately. As I sit here and ponder the events of the past two nights, I canít help but wonder wtf went on?? I have cable this weekend, but I havenít been in my apartment long enough to partake in some of the stickiest ickiest, let alone to actually check out some of the late night cable, so weíll get right to it [Ok, obviously I was watching late night SkinaMax at this point].
Letís start at the beginning. This weekend the Sergeon General was determined that I make up for last weekend in only a matter of hours. But since thatís not possible [you know, because Iím 23 like that], it took me the last two nights to ensure that I had the late night debauchery that is required of any weekend that is out on the town [except I only went ëout on the towní Saturday night].
Friday night, Somerville was the sight of some serious beer pong to go along with some, well letís say, non-pressurized consumer intake of alcohol [Huh!?]. Besides drinking and generally running the table I was texting almost everybody in my phone and, well, drinking [thatís repetitive]. There should be a way to stop drunk people from sending text messages while intoxicated, like you have to pass a breathalyzer test, or else you canít use your phone. Where was I? Lots of the pong, some Tiger Woods golf, I think, and numerous quotation gems thrown around by the General himself that arenít fit to print on this fine website [You can use your imagination, hilariously vulgar stuff being tossed around, I even scratched out a few on a credit card receipt, but then re-reading them, realized I couldnít put them in print].
Handsome Sean, who lives on West Coast time when out drinking, convinces us to walk somewhere in order to keep drinking. Being the good guys we are, we donít bring any of the beer thatís sitting in Sergeís fridge. I mostly stumble convinced weíre on a wild goose chase, but the Rattling AK47 insists, slurring, that heís a friend of the dude Sean knows. So not only do we meet up with OíCal somewhere, but it turns into a place that the Good King actually knows how to get to. Thatís killing two birds with one stone [of course, donít ask what birds I’m talking about, or stones even, I have no idea where this came from]. More pong ensued and of course, I got a number of games in with O’Cal, my new favorite teammate.
But to top it all off, we had a connection to the Local Hero at the party, a co-worker of his that O’Cal was working over called him up for us. I donít remember what time it was, or what I said, but all I know is that I got to harass a CRFC legend while Serge was eyeballing his intern, or whatever. Great times [definitely the highlight of the night, after that, nothing that happened would surprise me].
Saturday morning and I awake in the Hitmanís room with the light still on. No Jared wasn’t there, I know what youíre thinking! [whew]. Pickup is disastrous as I canít hold onto a ball and must reek of stale Bud Light. Thankfully the day is passed playing video games and eating a boatload of food. That reminds me, on Friday, not only did I eat at least a box of the finest Girl Scout cookies known to man, but a whole pizza too. I gotta hit the gym tomorrow [fatass]. Ah! That also reminds me, the Macho Man was absolutely hammered on Friday night. He started drinking with us, losing at the pong table and we thought nothing of it. A couple hours later, he is sitting there, with that angry Macho face on. He leans over to pick up a stray ping-pong ball and just falls out of his chair! Ha! Funniest thing I saw all weekend, it was like he defied gravity and fell in slo-mo. But back to my point, we were back to drinking again by 5 on Sunday night. Excellent work either being hung over or drunk for most of the weekend [now Iím just rambling as I start to fade in and out of consciousness].
I let Serge talk me into making a rare appearance outside of the apartment walls and actually go out into the city. Seriously, I havenít gone out since the last LNO, and I made sure to frisk everyone for recording equipment before we left [seriously]. Thankfully, already and still drunk, we hit Ned Devineís because, well itís ëcheapí. I was just excited to see Serge strike out with a ton of girls; at least I hoped thatís whom he was going to strike out with [hehe].
But this is where my birthday comes in. Apparently that was the best opening line we could come up with and we ran with it. At least, I got a couple free shots and beers out of the deal. That’s right, I got to stand there and bob my head while Serge and the other Jason tried to start conversation and pay for drinks. The typical result was that I got bought a drink and we moved on to the next group of females 😀 [I was clearly very pleased with myself, and for good reason. Not only did I get to be hammered and laugh at the two guys with me, I didn’t have to say a word, just smile and claim I had just turned 23]. Bam, just like that it was 2 and we hightailed it out of there with Serge spewing excuses about why he didnít talk very long to any particular girl. The best one was ëwell she’s “too boring” Maybe that’s true, but she was drunk and rambling when I saw her, come on man, make an effort!
I was hungry, so we ate, again, way too much this weekend [seriously, I didnít need to eat at all yesterday because I still had food in my stomach]. I didnít find a way home until almost 3, but now Iím back and, like a good Southpark episode, am contemplating what I learned today [obviously SkinaMax had lost my attention]. You know, it was good to get out this weekend with Erica away, but I tell you what, I couldnít do this all the time. Spending the money, watching forced conversation, waiting at the bar for drinks, it was just exhausting [I didnít lift a finger yesterday]. It made me thankful for the good things I’ve got going and I’ve vowed not be caught up with the thought of going out for a while. At least, not until Erica goes away again.