St Patty's Day Pt. 2

I'm sure a lot of people would like me to say that I am writing this absolutely shit-faced hungover, but alas this is not the truth. This is not to say that I did not drink too much, or that I was anywhere near responsible (much to my family's chagrin), but I was surrounded by such a group of degenerates that we were able to keep an unhealthy pace, for nearly 13 hours with enough forsight that by the time I went to bed, my buzz had decreased enough for me to think ahead and drink a lot of water. I woke up Sunday morning happy and well rested, and ate some cereal while playing Game Cube with Girly. Spyro is pretty gay, but my partner was cool, so it was a good way to spend the day.

I am proud to report that from 1Pm Saturday afternoon, up until the early hour of 2AM (when I quit the Boyz to meet up with Girly), we did not lose one single Boy. No one passed out, nobody got sick, nobody got arrested. We did get into a fight with some Leaf's fans (a jewish shoving match of the first order), and I did get cracked solidly in the face (I was breaking up a second completely unrelated jewish shoving match, and when I decided everyone was calm enough, I smacked both fighters in the face...smart move on my part that Selvin was quick to reward). I bruised my hip pretty badly, in a piggy back gone wrong moment (We're even Wise, but Bram owes you one, and Im going to help him). I did not get in any trouble when I met up with Girly, wrecked out of my tree, and ready to get to the lovin. She was also in a happy moment, wrecked out of her own tree, and happy to go cuddle. Which we did, and it was awesome.

That being said, I lived some interesting experiences with the Boyz. First of all I felt like a pseudo-celebrity. Bramo has been pushin my column on all of his friends, and apparently it has taken pretty well. When I was introduced to new people more often than not, I was met by "THE Toine...dude I love your column" which I think is great. Also whenever someone said or did something stupid or funny (more often than not the former), I was immediately turned to and asked "Please don't put this into the column". Don't worry dude, I barely remember what I did so your shit is safe.

So Bramo, Ronnie, Selvin, and now Wise...Thanks for the great time, you are some solid Boyz. Bramo says we need to hook up again to drink during the day, I say anytime is a good time. Wise you're going to be a doctor, maybe you can fix my Hip, or at least not break it next time. Baby steps buddy.

It is in these moments that I realized that I was getting older though. Not because any of the guys around me were less into doing stupid shit, but more because the group had no desire to do it at certain locations. Heaven forbid there be 16 year olds there getting retarded alongside us.

As Ronnie says and I whole heartedly agree, if the bar lets them in, they're 18 and anything after is completely legal. It's some sketchy logic, but you can't fault a man for protecting himself for liking them young. Some say if there's grass on the field play ball, others that if there isn't any grass, plant some seeds. I personally think that if the person I'm playing with can swing my bat, I'll pitch all day long (wow I really ran with that analogy).

Last but certainly not least, in the midst of getting in on pictures that I'll never see, getting fake tattooed on very sensitive spots, by very attractive people, and by fake tattooing a breast or two, I never once picked up the first round. Nobody expected me to, nobody wanted to make me a liar.

Cheer's Boyz.