Hey everybody, I hope you all had a solid weekend of getting fratty while the weather was still nice out (at least for those who live in the tri-state area). My weekend was filled with booze, burgers and a lack of sleep. I'm home from school so I had plenty of people to see this weekend. On Friday I spent the majority of my night in the back of a cab going from bar to bar. I don't mind taking cabs as I always bank on the next van cab that picks me up will be the "Cash Cab." My night finally ended when I looked up at a clock in Spaniard's apartment and saw that it said 6 AM. Yeah usually this wouldn't bother me but I had to bring my dog to the vet at noon so I was fired up that I had to get less than 12 hours of sleep which is a standard for me on Saturdays. I'm fortunately a veteran at having a lack of sleep and being miserably hungover, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. Interacting with people when we're hungover is something we all do, all the time. But when you actually have to use thought and intellect, I don't think there's anything worse. For all of you with jobs, I'm sure you've perfected this like Spaniard has. Even though rumor has it Spaniard once vomited at work, while sitting at his desk. Again, that's just a rumor. Oh, also, that's O'Doyle in the picture. Figured I'd throw it up there, because...O'Doyle Rules!
Saturday was an ultimate crush. I ventured to an open bar for some girl I didn't know and had a blast. Don't you love doing that? You get a text from a friend saying there's an open bar for someone they know and that you should totally come, do you ever second guess that? I sure don't; 40 bucks to drink as much as I possibly can in 4 hours sounds more like a challenge to me than any sort of deal. After my open bar challenge I headed out with a few friends to some random bars. I randomly ran into NervousCircle professional commenter Frank (who by the way is now blocked at work from commenting) and shared a good laugh with him, but nothing was more insane than when this girl I literally had just met got hit by a motorcycle. Yes, a motorcycle. This girl and I shared a cab to a bar and when she got out she forgot the gold standard when crossing the street: look both ways. The motorcycle came and she just kept walking. She didn't really get plowed by it but the side view mirror on the thing got knocked off. It took the guy a good 10 minutes to put the mirror back on. That guy must've felt really awesome. At first he was bad ass, crusin' the streets of Manhattan until a drunk girl in a party dress basically told his bike to go fuck itself. Anyway, for the remainder of the night I was giving her shit about "getting run over" by a motorcycle, she was not amused.
Finally Sunday rolled around. As Spaniard mentioned in his latest post myself along with two friends of ours joined him at the GMEN game. Waking up Sunday was pretty easy. I was hungover as balls but knowing I'm going to a Giants game is like waking up on Christmas day. I'm so stoked I can't contain myself. We opted to take the train to the game which isn't bad at all, but we were lacking a solid tailgate. We found ourselves standing in the middle of Giants Stadium parking lot just slugging beers. This doesn't sound that weird but when your not sitting next to a car, jamming out to tunes, tossing the pigskin around you feel really odd. And like I did on Friday night, I ran into Frank again but this time it wasn't that random. Wandering the parking lot crushing beers, Spaniard got in contact with one of his college buddies and we finally had a place to officially tailgate. And by tailgate I mean shotgun 3 beers each and go into the stadium. A ton of things happened at the game aside from the Giants pulling out a win in a big stinker of a game. I'd write about them but they were more of the stories that fit the "you had to be there" mold. Let's just say I saw a 45 year old man sitting indian style outside of a bathroom surrounded by 4 cops. I'd say he had a good day. Welp, that was my shitty weekend. If you had a crazy story email us and tell us about it.
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