stuck in the middle with booze

the word “saint” has five letters in it…

…the word “patrick” has seven. what number’s missing from the middle there? SIX – and i think i found it:

six fun facts from me & shane’s st. patrick’s day outing

6. it begins – i understand why they did it, but sean patrick’s (henceforth referred to as “the bar”) lost ALL glassware for st. patrick’s day. why? ’cause they had a “bier garten” out in a section of blocked off street and asphalt+glassware+drunken college duchebags = ugly. but trying to drop a plastic shot glass of jameson/bailey’s in a half a solo cup of guinness and just watching it bob in the beer and giggle at you? that was too high school for me – when i got the text before i had even exited the interstate (shane: “what the fuck is up with guinness in a plastic miller lite cup with a fucking leprechaun on it?”) i knew this wouldn’t end well. and on top of that…

5. our patience shrinkith as the tab groweth – it’s sad when “your” bar is an irish pub and you’re pretty sure you’ve seen your last st. patrick’s day there…but past times it was celebrated with an all day happy hour, and now it’s celebrated with and all day SUSPENSION of happy hour. i guess when you KNOW people will pay top dollar for your booze as it’s st. patrick’s and you have the name “patrick” in your title, you get that money…plus renting a whole block of street probably ain’t cheap. but i’ll stick to this for my day-to-day drinking and leave it to the amateurs on “that” day…and amateurs they shall be since…

4. practice makes perfect no more – the bar always replicated their st. patrick’s day specials on the seventeenth of EVERY month and called it “st. practice day” so normal people could stay practiced up at drinking of the level of folks like me, harold, and shane. but since there ARE no more all day happy hours for st. patrick’s, there IS no more “st. practice day”. now that i write this all out, this was a pretty sad day for us drinking types…but since the wing special was only during happy hour normal hours anyway, i tended to only do st. pract’s after 4pm anyway, so nothing lost here, i suppose.

3. tapping the competition didn’t test my patience – a backup bar plan has ALWAYS been the taproom and it worked out nicely. happy hour in effect, BIGGER beers, car bombs with glassware, and shane could smoke inside. that’s win, win, win, WIN, folks. we needed to go no further, especially when it got loud due to…

2. piper down! – two fun facts about bagpipes: their loud as fuck and typically cost over $1,000. that last part surprised me. the other piper stat that surprised me was i swear after just a big-ass guinness and a carbomb (which the piper didn’t know how to do until he watched us, as evident by him starting to do the shot rather than drop it in the pint glass) the guy seemed wobbly. this was him pre-wobble:

1. snort goes the weasel! – okay, so i’m not “the weasel”…that would be pauly shore (who’s kind of a dick, if you’re curious). but i DID lament that every time you drop a real shot glass into a real pint glass you tend to lose precious drops of guinness…and sought to remedy that fact by snorting it like a line of coke. shane will tell you i twisted that bill a little too quick and well for a guy who’d never had a powder habit (which i haven’t ever even tried that shit nor will i ever) but he was quick with the camera phone so we’ll close on the st. pat’s debauchery he captured: