And we're back...
Alright, if anyone's going to make the 100th post around here, it's going to be me or Trev, and Trev is currently passed out in a pile of unsold T-shirts.
I was still deep in the throes of my incapacitating football depression when Brian from HouseRockBuilt stopped over to remind the interns and myself of the evening's scheduled trip to the local Mexican cantina. Braving the now post-apocalyptic state of the office, negotiating treacherous physical challenges as well as Bloo's newly created taffy-based booby traps, we managed to get out of the compound relatively unscathed. Some of Brian's cigarettes were lost in the scuffle, but they did not die in vain. While I was still hopelessly distraught over Michigan's shellacking of the Irish, I needed to get out of the office, if not for my own safety, but because it is always bad luck to turn down good tequila.
The crew and I feasted on various appetizer dishes while enjoying several rounds of various margaritas, as was the restaurant's custom, yet I couldn't help but be reminded about my past affairs with sweet lady Kool-Aid. Brian, a recovering addict himself, reminded me that there is no better cure for a coming down from a drink-mix high than brightly colored alcoholic beverages. Neon green margaritas and bright yellow tequila shooters are the perfect methadone for shaking the grips of the saccharine harlot. I don't know if it was the utter sleep deprivation I had inflicted upon myself or the sheer potency of the blue agave, but somehow, it all made sense.
Round after round, the staff enjoyed the various styles of Mexican alcohol, in moderation of course, and things started to look up. By the end of the night, I was back to proclaiming Charlie Weis' inevitable wielding of the Righteous Hammer of God at Michigan State this weekend. My expectations have waned slightly come this morning, but you get the overall idea.
The past is past. Now everyone, start cleaning up this bloody mess! I know you only listen to about 5% of what I tell you to do, but please? We have a lot of football to watch this weekend, and I'd rather you get the bodies out of here now before they start to smell.
No more Sparks for you, Trev. I don't care if you tipped her.
-irishoutsider
I was still deep in the throes of my incapacitating football depression when Brian from HouseRockBuilt stopped over to remind the interns and myself of the evening's scheduled trip to the local Mexican cantina. Braving the now post-apocalyptic state of the office, negotiating treacherous physical challenges as well as Bloo's newly created taffy-based booby traps, we managed to get out of the compound relatively unscathed. Some of Brian's cigarettes were lost in the scuffle, but they did not die in vain. While I was still hopelessly distraught over Michigan's shellacking of the Irish, I needed to get out of the office, if not for my own safety, but because it is always bad luck to turn down good tequila.
The crew and I feasted on various appetizer dishes while enjoying several rounds of various margaritas, as was the restaurant's custom, yet I couldn't help but be reminded about my past affairs with sweet lady Kool-Aid. Brian, a recovering addict himself, reminded me that there is no better cure for a coming down from a drink-mix high than brightly colored alcoholic beverages. Neon green margaritas and bright yellow tequila shooters are the perfect methadone for shaking the grips of the saccharine harlot. I don't know if it was the utter sleep deprivation I had inflicted upon myself or the sheer potency of the blue agave, but somehow, it all made sense.
Replacing heartbreak with hangovers...and chicken wings.
Round after round, the staff enjoyed the various styles of Mexican alcohol, in moderation of course, and things started to look up. By the end of the night, I was back to proclaiming Charlie Weis' inevitable wielding of the Righteous Hammer of God at Michigan State this weekend. My expectations have waned slightly come this morning, but you get the overall idea.
The past is past. Now everyone, start cleaning up this bloody mess! I know you only listen to about 5% of what I tell you to do, but please? We have a lot of football to watch this weekend, and I'd rather you get the bodies out of here now before they start to smell.
No more Sparks for you, Trev. I don't care if you tipped her.
-irishoutsider
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posted by IrishOutsider at 10:37 AM Permalink
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1 Comments:
See, my recovery is being slowed by an intense cold that I can shake so no alcohol for me. Which is why I am attempting to speed it by attending the PSU-OSU game and hoping PSU wins, helping us out.
Though I am wearing red for fear of my life.
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