Thursday, May 07, 2009

I was under the impression that if Pints of Guinness Make You Strong, then boots of Guinness turn you into some kind of Superman/Incredible Hulk hybrid. It seems as though that's not the case. How I got to this epiphany:

"Rain. Shit. Now I can't do that boot full of beer that I need to do because this hasn't been the best week so far. Wait, what? Why does rain stop me? It's not lightning out. Fuck it!"

So I get to the bar and the lady asks what I want. "...boottothehead..."


"What? Oh, a boot full of Guinness."

"Whoa, what's the occassion?"

"It's Wednesday. Sixo de Mayo or something."

And then the guy next to me says "I like that." Then I pull out my Lucky Strikes and he says "Are those filterless cigarettes?" Damn right. Good enough for Holden Caulfield, good enough for me. "Filterless cigarettes and a boot of beer. You may be the most hardcore person I've ever seen." Well, you ain't hardcore unless you live hardcore. Oh shit, is this guy hitting on me?

I shrug it off and get to work, 67 ounces of beer isn't going to drink itself. I ask the nice lady if they could put the Bruins game on this tv that no one is watching because, at 9-0 in the top of the 2nd, this Brewer game is over. So, truthfully, this is the first Bruins game I've watched all season. If they keep playing like they did last night, like the Bruins I've always seen, there's not going to be any victory dances any time soon, but there is going to be a date with a razor. Probably hedge clippers, as well.

Now, clearly another pint was ill advised, but my synapses weren't firing as well as they sometimes do, so a pint of Schlitz it is. "And could you change the channel now that the game is over. It's killing me that they keep replaying that goal. Yeah, Chasing Amy is on!"

Somehow I stumbled home and didn't wind up sleeping on someone's lawn, I do recall stopping outside a bat where some dude was playing acoustic cover songs, Margaritaville and such and you know that I'm a sucker for anything acoustic, and I remember texting my brother with "At 11:11 I make wishes" at 11:11 or so, but let's fast forward to this morning when my alarm is crowing at me to get up. "Drive or walk? Drive or walk? None of the above." But if I don't get up, there's going to be a shitstorm of people who can't figure out how to work wireless internet and they're all going to fight one another about whose is more important because the thirty seconds it takes to get connected is entirely too long to wait. And there's always the chance that, when that guy pages me about installing Office on his computer because he can't find his Word shortcut on his desktop(Turns out clicking Start->All Programs->Microsoft Office->Microsoft Office Word 2003 is too much to remember... Is there a way to make the blue "W" icon as big as the whole desktop?), I'm going to puke on him. Man, I don't want to miss that opportunity.

Anyways, this is one of those hangovers that feels like I'll be fine if I can just get myself to puke. So hover over the toilet thinking puke-worthy thoughts. No go. No, turns out I can't puke until right after I'm done brushing my teeth... And I still feel like shit, certainly not like some kind of Superman/Incredible Hulk hybrid. And who exactly is the genius that made the cap on the Tylenol childproof/hungoverproof?

said Tommy T. at 7:49 AM - #

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