Drunkerthanaskunk

It's six thirty in the morning, and I just got home. I embarked on a journey to west Toronto with the promise of free beer and good company at 8 pm this past evening. I was rewarded beyond my wildest dreams, and I got to see JR and Eileen's secret laughing place. After several of JR's homemade and quite delicious brews, I set my sights on the homeward track with my pal Sass at my side. This was a mistake.

Being the brain damaged lunkhead that I am, I eagerly accepted an invitation for a nightcap at the Fiddler's Green. Here I encountered my downfall. The dreaded rusty nail washed down with a shot of Bushmills straight up. This is the stuff that the Gods on Mount Olympus get sloshed on. Feeling like I was in the presence of the immortals, I chose to follow Sass home for a post nightcap tiple. She whipped out her trusty bottle of Birthday Whiskey, and proceeded to twist my sore arm and force me to help her finish it off. The Cuervo Gold chaser was the crowning touch. We proceeded to bare our souls in the hope that neither one of us would notice, and after a few minutes of babble, I staggered for home with the intention of actually getting here.

Being the ravenous animal that I am, I quickly raided the fridge and found some blueberry syrup, and vanilla ice cream. Not bad at all, and I didn't spill any on my cool red shirt. I am happy and unscathed, except for the two guys who held Sass and I down and forced us to drink too much. I suspect my head is going to be sore. Jeeeez....