St. Patricks Day

I don’t really care about St. Patricks Day, honestly. My name is Colin, yes, but I am not Irish. I had to explain this to countless people on Friday night…and they would all look at me baffled like “what do you mean? your name is Colin is it not? You must be Irish.” No..I’m not. Sorry.

I and two associates in debauchery went downtown to check out the madness at about 4:00pm. Our obviously flawed plan was that we would all go do the happy hour thing, and then get home before it got too crazy and the sobriety check points were set up. Well, as you can imagine, it didn’t turn out quite that way.

First we went to some bar I can’t remember the name of, because they have 9 foot pool tables. Unfortunately, the tables were all taken, and we didn’t want to wait around. So we had a black and tan, and then left for City Steam. At City Steam, I confirmed my prior assessment that their beer has gone to shit. Seriously, for a brew pub, their beer SUCKS wind. It was terrible. But we still played pool there for a while, and suffered through the terrible beer. I played one of my most dominating games of pool ever, right after my cohort made fun of me for how I break.

He was like, “why do you always break that fucking lame way, man? You are supposed to hit it dead on the center.” He was totally wrong, as just after he said this, I broke in my normal fasion, pocketed 5 balls on the break, and proceeded to run the table without giving him a turn. Out of 15 games with my two cohorts, I lost one…and only because I scratched on the 8 ball. Yes, I am awesome. You don’t have to tell me.

Then we left and walked down the street to some Irish bar that was packed to the gills. I hate standing in crowds. About the only way I can tolerate it is if there is a band playing that I really want to see, or hot girls that seem interested. Fortunately, we ran into a few of the latter. After a while though, we really needed to get out to the parking lot so that my one friends could run over my other friends foot. True story. Sounds reckless and dangerous, and probably was, but terribly funny none the less. It probably would have been less funny had he whos foot was run over actually been hurt…but he was ok.

We then stopped by the biker bar. Those of you who know me very well will know what that means.

We chilled at my place for a while, then went to the Pool Factory so I could continue my dominating of pool. By this point in the evening however, my beer goggles were firmly attached. Now, a little known side effect of the beer goggles needs to be mentioned here. While yes, they make females look more attractive than they otherwise would be, they also make rather poor shots at pool look much more attractive. So I couldn’t really crush my opponents the way I would have liked to. And besides, at this point it was about midnight, and we were all starting to wear down after our nine hour “happy hour”. So we called it quits, and all went home.

Good times for all…except my friend who had his foot run over I guess. :)

PS: Wow..I typed all that and didn’t make a single spelling mistake according to my spell checker!

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