Friday, September 28, 2007

The Non-Live Blog of the Ancient Man 

4:15 in the AM

Everyone else is dead except me and JDub who is wandering around with a bunch drunken bachelorette party girls. He won't tell me where he is. I tried.

No one will drink any more, they all went too strong too early. I'm stuck being 40 wondering why I can't-won't-refuse to go to sleep.

Because when I wake up....

5:10am: JDub has been located. Everyone found safely. Currently drinking Lager's on the deck, bullshitting, and waiting for the sun to come up. Nobody will answer dial-a-shot calls and I have no business making them ( Who makes dial-a-shot calls at 5am?). Sleep is for the weak.

Noonish: Don't remember writing this post at all. Death is right behind me. I will restart the drinking process 60 seconds after I return my mother's phone call. If I make it to sundown it will be quite a feat.


Thursday, September 27, 2007

The last night before I am old 

Thursday I am 30-something. I can pretend I'm 31ish.
Friday I am 40 something. I can pretend I'm 49ish.
Thursday I can act like irresponsible lush.
Friday I can act like my lack of impulse control is common in old senile men.

I wish I could set an over/under on the debauch about to go down the moment I walk out of the door but it wouldn't be realistic.

No one knows.

The other side is here, see you tomorrow.


I decided to donate 5 lap dances $100 to Kat's crazy $1 rebuy tournament tomorrow night. Better to give the money to blogging lemurs than soul-less harpies looking for the quickest access to your wallet. God I love them so. No pretense.

There is no chance in hell I'll be there but if you aren't in Key West, join me in memory.

Grandpa signing off.


Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Day 3, I think 

I was going to post at 5am this morning but wasn't certain I would be able to write in anything resembling English. Once again saw the ugly lights come up at "The Dive" and we had one surly fuck of a bouncer. BigMike and myself got the bums rush right out the door into a god damned hurricane. No amount of rushing, running, or walking at a brisk pace was going to prevent us from being soaked to the bone before reaching our final destination. So we did what only made sense. Grabbed a drink and jumped into the pool

At 5am it made complete sense.

The poker chips were finally busted out yesterday afternoon and it was 6-handed insanity. We're plowing through the liquor at a decent pace and wasting the home owners money by renting HiDef porn movies On Demand. It turns out that I'll be getting several visitors over the next few days and things will most definitely ramp up. Tonight is topless mechanical bull riding at some hillbilly joint (whores on bulls as BigMike says).

Soco in the foreground, Dr. Pauly relaxing in the background

Here's a video Pauly shot of our digs. RSS readers click the link.


Tuesday, September 25, 2007

It very well may take me a couple of days to wrap my mind around last night. As far as I recall, my only food for the day was a basket of mozz sticks and a slice of pizza. Everything else was liquid and high octane. My head didn't hurt this morning nearly as much as my poor lungs.

Chain smoking, power drinking, money bleeding good times. Is it really only Tuesday?

I'm off in search of breakfast (2pm is breakfast time around these parts) and will leave you with Dr. Pauly's take on the first 48 hours.

The tiny little High Def TV we are forced to watch


Monday, September 24, 2007

Day 1 in the books 

"At 8:08pm on a Sunday evening, I walked into an Irish bar with AlCantHang. Eight hours later, I had visited two strip clubs and was stuck $420."

The Good Doctor
Always happy to survive the first night. We tend to hit everything extra hard when we first get here just to set up the rest of the week. Trust me when I say that the bartenders, bouncers, owners, strippers, and random locals are aware we are in town. We were hemorrhaging money and setting up babies mommas trust funds.

As I write this the boys are off enjoying some french pastries for brunch (not me), Pauly is sitting outside on the deck getting sun and reading (not me, sun is my enemy), and I'm sitting in front of the biggest damned high def TV on the market. Recovery is slow in coming after sleeping on the couch and waking to god's own flashlight. Should have noticed before passing out that this nice little house comes complete with god damned sun windows in the ceiling. Fookers.

Last night was a big blur of booze and stripper dust. Probably not a good sign when you get a ride home from a dancer at 4 in the morning of the very first day. And I walked out of the club with two unopened Yuengling's in my hand. God bless liberal open container laws and those who abuse them.

Somehow I managed to survive knocking back multiple shots with the owner of Irish Kevin's (not Irish, not Kevin) on the first leg of the night only to destroy a little piece of my soul at the strip clubs. When your friends pony up the lap dance money for no reason and the girl whispers in your ear "my name is Eva", there's really nowhere to go from there. I just rode the wave and stopped trying to be a reasonable human.

I started the day with a airline nightmare trip and ended it walking out of the club at 4am with a dancer and two bottle of Lager in my hand. Lap dancing my way to hell.

Can't write, busy drinking. My soul is a little dirtier than it was the day before. I expect it to get much worse.