Everything is wrong with me
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
 
St. Patrick - until we meet again
Ah, what a weekend. I see my Boston friends only one weekend about every two months, so naturally in that weekend we have to do two months worth of drinking to make up for lost time.

Sunday was the parade. Nothing like waking up at 8am on a Sunday morning, cooking a giant breakfast of eggs, meats, beans, and potatoes, and finishing your first Guinness by 9:30 (after all, Sunday is the Lord's day). Everything is spotty, but some highlights:

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The wife of a buddy of mine from college is now pregnant. A bunch of us were standing around talking about it with him, and I said, "Hey, the best part [about her being pregnant] is that you have a designated driver every time you go out!" A few girls in the group made a noise akin to the noise that Marisa, Frank the Tank's wife in "Old School", made when she and Frank were seeing the therapist and he talked about the panties of the Olive Garden waitress: a stammer of disgust.

Sure, it's probably not the "best part" of your wife being pregnant, but am I wrong? I mean, she can't drink, so whenever you go out with her and friends, she can drive, right?

I don't think I'm wrong here.

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There was an acquaintance of mine from college at the party, a girl who I had always flirted with but with whom I never actually sealed the deal. We were flirting all afternoon, and we were standing in line for the bathroom:

Her: "You know, this line is really long. I think I'm just going to go home to use the bathroom - I only live three houses down."
Me: "That's a good idea. We can both go to your place to use the bathroom, and then fool around a little bit."
Her: "Jason, I mean, I don't know what to say - are you serious?"
Me: "Yeah - of course I'm serious!"
Her: "Ok, well then - "
Me: "Oh, you know what? I just remembered that Joe and I are actually next up for Beirut. So I don't think I should go."
Her: [dead stare, leaves bathroom line]

Again, what the fuck is wrong with me? I turn down an opportunity to mess around with an attractive girl so that I could play a fucking drinking game? Good lord.

[By the way, we lost, though we did take it to overtime. But, sweet. Real sweet.]

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It didn't help in the ladies department that the whole weekend my friends and I were yelling, "Lingerie - m'dick!"

This explanation is courtesy of my friend Don Fiedler, who popularized the term:

"During the UConn-Vermont game, Talik Brown took the ball from one end of the court to the other for a lay-up. Bill Raftery [the announcer] screamed, 'Talik Brown slicing through the lane. Oh! Lingerie M'dick!" I watched this at my friend Slade's house. Slade has TiVo. We easily replayed it 25-30 times and all we could hear was 'lingerie-m'dick.'"

So every time something even mildly exciting happened, you had eight to ten guys randomly screaming "Lingerie - M'DICK!" And you had a bunch of girls saying, "Why do you guys keep screaming, 'Lingerie, my dick?'"

Good stuff.

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I met some of the guys from "Average Joe: 2" (on which my buddy Bill was a contestant) and I gotta say they were genuinely nice guys. In addition to Bill, there was Brian G., Brian W., Justin, and Phuc. Phuc was pretty funny - while standing in line for the keg, he yelled, "What's an Asian gotta do to get a beer around here? Crane kick a mother fucker?" Then later his brother puked in Bill's bedroom.

More good stuff.

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That's all I have, because I really don't remember anything after 6pm. I know that I watched "The Sopranos", but I don't recall anything. Also, I lost my jacket and my fleece, but I'm hoping they are at Bill's house.

Another year of celebrating St. Patrick and the Irish. Until next time.



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