Monday, March 14, 2011

I might not be drinking on St. Patrick's Day????



I never thought I would say this: I might not be drinking on St. Paddy's Day.

How I've come to this conclusion, several factors:

Location. Funds. People.

Before I launch into the reasoning for my possible not drinking, let's recap the last 4 Saint Patrick's Days real quick:

2007: Had campus security called to my room because of reports of me having a gun (it was a Nerf). Proceeded to get chased around in the snow by RA's while my entire dorm cheered me on. Somehow my shirt came off.

2008: Drank all day (of course) and wound up at a coed's place. While mid-curricular activities, I got a massive urge to dump. Like Dumb and Dumber dump. I threw on the pause button, went and destroyed said bathroom. Problem? No toilet paper, towels, cardboard or tissues. Solution? Unwrap 16 tampons and used them collectively as a scrubber. Flushed them all down the toilet, continued business. Got a $900 bill at the end of the semester. Did not pay it.



2009: Skipped all my classes and went to the bar at 8 AM. At 2 PM I tried to take the city bus back to school. Woke up at 5 PM in the same bus in the same spot on main street in Manchester, Yes, the bus had gone through its route 2 full times while I was passed out in the back. Later that night some other random shit went down that I have a very hazy memory of. I'm pretty sure it involved a bottle of Jameson, a heating blanket, a koosh and giving a girl the best damn St. Patrick's Day she'd ever seen.

2010: Dressed up like Bono and went to San Francisco with my buddies. Hailed a limo and took it 3 blocks to another bar for 50 bucks. End up getting a wet massage of sorts from a woman after I told her I was a Mass State Trooper, which was great until I got punched in the face from her civil union partner. Even worse was I found out that said masseuse was in Penthouse several years earlier. If you have a problem with this part of the story, I implore you to call McDuffy's pub in San Francisco and mention: Mass State Trooper, Penthouse and my name. Then I went to a former IRA bar and donated $27 to Sinn Fein. Finally, I broke my buddy's iPhone while trying to set an alarm for the next day.



Which leads us to this year. Clearly I've set the bar pretty high for myself. Here is the situation:

1) I am in Carlisle, PA, home of the United States Army War College. I mention this because there could be a good chance that I might be able to booze with some boys in uniform. This could be awesome as they are probably all in good spirits and my uncle is/was the commandant for the Marines studying there. That being said, I could also get my ass kicked for not being in uniform.



2) Funds. I dont think I can go more than a few hours at the bar. There's a fridge full of Guinness that my Aunt has already bestowed upon me, so pre-gaming is a great option. Also good? My younger cousins can DD for me. Great. So now I just need to find a place to go to get some local flavor. Is that possible? I don't know. But knowing myself, there should be no problem finding some interesting women to speak to...



.....or not

1 comment:

  1. I remember meeting up with you last year. You forgot the part where you left me with a pair of fuglys and I pulled a "is that Usher over there" move and bolted.

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