Monday, October 20, 2008

liver filed for divorce and it wants the kidneys

Uuuuggghhhh, so my plan went a little afoul from the beginning. Friday afternoon I was preparing for the flight to Boston. Stuffing shit into the suitcase that I might need. I am bad at this so it is always a crap shoot. I finished in record time so in my infinite wisdom I decided that I needed to get a beer to take the edge off the impending red-eye to Beantown.

Well guess who was at the Dray already. Yes, my favorite hair farmer Nathan. Needless to say by the time I got home for Pete-Nice to pick me up I was 6 deep in high octane. So Pete-nice get to the house early, like 2 hrs early. What is my resolve to this fuck-up. Hey! Let's go to the Dray. Bad idea. Lets make this short, both the check-in and security folk had doubts as to whether I was fit to fly. I made it though. Did not sleep one goddamn minute. Plan=failure.

So I get to Boston and have a cross between hangover/still fucked up. Great. No room yet available and when they did the precheck in, my card was declined. Not my fault, chick put security code in wrong. So checked the bags in and went to go for breakfast. Behold, the Pourhouse, yes that was the choice, the Pourhouse. I think I had 2 Bloody Marys i me before the food hit the table. Food comes and goes and so do 3 more BM's. Great 11ish, no more hangover, already on my way to getting shitfaced(if not already there).

So finally get a room after walking around for an hour. Unpack, drop a deuce and start to think where I am going to watch the game. Easy, McGreeveys. Excellent choice. After a short nap, get ready and head on over. Pete wanted to get some supplies(handle of Vodka) so he left me to my demise while he stocked up. Got that at 5 with a start time of 8, gotta have dinner yo. Guinness and Cottage Pie. helluva lot more of the later then former. First tab hits the table and it was food and about a dozen Guinness between Pete-nice and I.

Game time bitches. Met and Aussie girl at the bar and she decided to watch her first baseball game with us. Bad idea. It got to the point that we had the waitress bringing 3 more pints as soon as she put the new ones down. Game ends and we are just shit housed. Which is cool cause the Sox survived another day. Tab comes. Now you figure, a pint of Guinness is what? 4-5 bucks? Well the tab was $140. For nuthin but goddamn Guinness. I read it, or at least tried. Looked legit, I was so proud. Not bad for two drunks on a celebratory night.

Sunday sucked. I had 2 breakfasts and the obligatory morning hair of the dog. yeah, that really didn't work.

gonna have to work on over the next week.

4 comments:

Monkey Ride said...

drunken bastard

Bianchi said...

Niiiiiice,

You + Dray + Boston + The Soxs = Well... with that equation, is anyone who reads this thing even remotely suprised this is how your weekend went?

Jeezus H Christmas!

I have found your Kryptonite, good sir, and The Dray be thy name...

Randy Salamon said...

you ain't got huntin' on me, king kong ain't got me

bianchi said...

whatever, Denzel...