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As Mickey's little hand has now slipped past the 12, it is my high school girlfriend's birthday, which means I will dedicate the rest of tonight's post to either old gems posted on her birthday in past years, or thoughts on her.

a la HERE.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Happy Fucking St. Patrick's Day

- Being reminded of why I never cross the river into Manhattan, I went up to the bar to buy 4 beers and was told the cost was $26. Great! I remember thinking to myself, this means I can drink for about 11 minutes and still have enough money to pay a guy $5 to blow my fucking brains out.

- Having a smoking hot chick in a red satin jacket standing between my thighs, my hand on the small of her back, killing her with my charm, and then Op saying to her "hey, switch places with me!" so he can come talk about, I dunno what, car batteries with me. Great! I remember thinking, I've probably been getting too much hot ass lately anyway!!

- Somehow losing a fight without getting hit once. As I of course cannot let a St. Paddy's Day go by without getting in at least one fight, some big dude walked in at the end of the night and did something I found out of the bounds of courtesy, like saying words out loud in a room I was in, and I went after him. About 5 steps before I got to him, I somehow found myself on the ground. I got up, went to leave for home, then remembered I was supposed to kick some guy's ass, and went back after him, whereupon I found myself looking at the floor again. About 8 feet away from him. Hmm, I remember thinking, maybe I'm really fucking bad at this.

Christ. How the Irish do this every fucking night, I have no idea.