Wednesday, June 22, 2005
drink until you shit
Whenever my buddy David and I get together, we get messed up - big time. David's one of my oldest friends from Philly and whenever I go down there or he comes up to NYC, it gets ugly. Not "I got so drunk I threw up" ugly, but "I woke up in an Arizona desert without a left hand" ugly.
David and I lived together in North Wildwood, NJ (henceforth, "down the shore") the summer after we graduated high school. It was an awkward time for us both, but a good time nonetheless. Last summer, when we were both down the shore for the weekend, we had a "drinking tour." This consisted of the two of us getting black-out drunk while people looked on and shook their heads in disgust.
In two weeks, I'm going down the shore again. I'll be there from around July 3 to July 10. David and I have planned another "drinking tour" this year, which will again most likely be the two of us drinking way more than we should while people judge us. And again, I will probably tell all the girls I grew up with who rejected me back then because I was fat/borderline gay how much money I make. They in turn will be disgusted and feel sad for me. I am such a fucking ladykiller.
But this year, we're coming prepared and making it official. We're calling it the "Flood/Mulgrew 7th Annual Quasi-Celebrity Drinking Tour". The first five didn't actually happen and the sixth was last year, so naturally this is the seventh. The "quasi-celebrity" thing I don't really like, but hey, that's what I am. Our motto? "Drink until you shit." Simple, direct, effective.
And we have an official uniform. I have spent the last three hours perfecting this shirt and I have to say, I couldn't be happier with myself.
You should probably get yours now. It'll only be a matter of days before you see Paris wearing one. Or rather it'll only be a matter of days before you see me wearing one, in handcuffs going to jail because I broke into Paris' house and masturbated all over her kitchen floor. Whatever.