Food for thought, Guinness for strength
Before I head out for what will surely end in awesome trouble, here's a trio of people that would SUCK to be stuck on an elevator with: Gilbert Gottfried, Boy George, Tori Spelling.
Okay, that's me well away. Check back tonight if you want to know how my St. Paddy's Day session goes. Seriously, stay tuned. C'mon! You know you want to.
P.S. The odds of my drinking whiskey today? Even. The odds of my drinking something fucking disgusting, such as Jagermeister? Dunno. It's a pk'em. We'll see how the Guinness settles. And who's buying the shots. The odds my "Kiss Me I'm Irish" button works and I get smooched by a hot Irish lassie? 20:1 against. The odds that some drunken local tough steals my "Irish" button: 1:2. Can't we all just get along!? The odds that that same local tough would kick my ass if I actually said that? It's a lock. The odds that I would kick my own ass if I said that? It's a lock.
3 comments:
Have a Guinness or two in my honor, as I just had a tooth ripped from my skull (dentists? no thanks) and won't be able to partake in any of the festivities. Also, stay away from that green stuff.
Score for today - Drunken idiots of the city of Chicago - 1. Macek - 0.
I'm finding a bell tower.
Hey-ya, Krystal -- Sorry about the tooth-ripping (yeah, dentists. Still, I think I prefer going to the dentist over the barber. I really hate getting haircuts); Had several jars of Guinness in your honor. Avoided the damn green stuff, too (which is always Bud Light, it seems. Awful. Just awful).
Yo Macek -- A defeat, eh? That sucks. Did you at least get down to the "green" river?
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