In case you didn't notice, we've done a little housecleaning around these parts. That albatross of a message board is now cast from around our weary weather-beaten necks, thank heaven and Buddha and Jebus. I was getting so worn down by deleting all that spam that I was actually starting to consider using my Viagra stock to refinance my house and filling it with hot horny teenage ducks.
"But Brendo," you may be saying to yourself, "I have opinions coming out the proverbial poop shoot! Where am I supposed to express said opinions?"
Well, now you have three options: you can a) shut your pie hole, b) continue to bless me with your presence or c) visit Nate over on the newly blog-ified Scene. So, in the immortal words of Nelson Mandela, "Quit your bitchin', hoss."
Hope everyone had a fun, fruitful St. Patrick's Day weekend. The Stomach Bug That Just Won't Go Away sidelined me for the majority of the weekend. Anyone have any wacky drunken stories to share with the group?
"But Brendo," you may be saying to yourself, "I have opinions coming out the proverbial poop shoot! Where am I supposed to express said opinions?"
Well, now you have three options: you can a) shut your pie hole, b) continue to bless me with your presence or c) visit Nate over on the newly blog-ified Scene. So, in the immortal words of Nelson Mandela, "Quit your bitchin', hoss."
Hope everyone had a fun, fruitful St. Patrick's Day weekend. The Stomach Bug That Just Won't Go Away sidelined me for the majority of the weekend. Anyone have any wacky drunken stories to share with the group?
9 Comments:
I saw The Sheila Divine at TT's.
Open whiskey bar from 2-4.
That's not only all I can probably tell you, it's about all I can remember.
amateur hour.
ooh ooh look at me, i'm drunk.
I'm playing U2 on the jukebox!
LOOK AT ME I'M DRUNK!
i'm irish! i'm wearing a green abercrombie and fitch tshirt! and i'm drinking! beer!
omg i'm sooo drunk looooooook at meeeeeeeeeee *puke*
i hate st patricks day.
On Sunday morning, my girlfriend and I were at a coffee shop watching people stumble home in their previous night's St. Patrick's attire. She looked at one of them, turned to me and said,
"Poor girl. She slept with some random guy and now she has to walk home the next day in a leprechaun outfit. Worst walk of shame ever."
I was forced to dance with a guy wearing a football jersey that said, "irish." He told me I seemed self-conscious. I replied that I probably just wasn't drunk enough and made my escape.
Then I had to worry that he was probably a BC student, i.e. I could be his teacher.
Then I had to worry that he was probably a BC student, i.e. I could be his teacher.
No need to worry. He probably wouldn't talk much anyway. ha
Ugh. Seriously, the only thing I hate more than St. Patrick's Day is Italians.
"On Sunday morning, my girlfriend and I were at a coffee shop watching people stumble home in their previous night's St. Patrick's attire. She looked at one of them, turned to me and said,
"Poor girl. She slept with some random guy and now she has to walk home the next day in a leprechaun outfit. Worst walk of shame ever.""
Clearly, your girlfriend is wise and awesome.
I didn't get drunk. I had 2 ciders at Atwood's Tavern, which was hella packed and I would have left, because if a place is packed enough for me to use the term "hella" I tend to run screaming, but Sam Bigelow is kinda kickass, so it was worth it.
i drank beer at home by myself. suckers!
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