I'm not gonna lie to you, I'm a little drunk..

10:23 pm, June 25, 2004

Lord knows I try to model my life after that of The Dude; but I CANNOT handle the White Russians.

Our little Matty Boy is finally a 21 year old man. Keeping him inebriated and alive were our only ambitions - in that order. Got me a fake UPass from James E. Roy and Juli's scanner. Excellent. The three of us plus Colivers made the trip up to the Emigrant. Shit, Even got James drinkin' a couple beers. I tell you, that MADE the first half of my night right there.

Couldn't get into Earls (So, now I'm 3 out of 6 attempts for Earls. Fucking Earls.) but this time it wasn't my fault. Matt's friend Luke (still a FUCKING cool name) was up from San Fran, but sadly didn't have his ID. He had birth certificate and social security card and something else, but Earls sucks donkey balls. So, we went to Tommy's

Tommy's is a fucking DUMP, but fuck-me-in-the-ass, they have 3 dollar Miller High Life pitchers!!! It was there that the gang completed. Matt, Luke, Anne, Mark, Kelsey, Julie Chen, Juli and Colin (yes, their entry is ALWAYS together), James E. Roy, Me, Megan, Mario, and Eric - who had to be at work at 6am to do some roofing. That's gotta fucking SUCK after drinking. Shit, Tommy's had some deals. We got pretty hammered.

Then, it was on to Finn McCools. Something about that place just SCREAMS to be puked in (maybe it's because it's always the LAST place we go on the block). Pete did it on his birthday; Matt did it last night (although, HE managed to make it to the toilet); and alas, I did as well. Fucking White Russians! The shit curdles and mixes with all the other liquor I had and that was the end of me. Matt and I DID manage a drunken version of Beastie Boys - Fight For Your Right To Party (although, since Matt was clad in his Packers shirt and getting booed the fuck off the stage, we couldn't hear the music so we were WAY off on the lyrics).

Matt, Anne and I all managed to make it back to Mark and Mario's. There was no way in hell that we were gonna make it all the way to Megan's to drop her off, nor to Matt's house as originally planned (though, Luke made it okay). Matt was in the bathroom puking for what seemed like forever, with Anne being the sensible, attentive girlfriend. That was good, because I wanted NO part in being around a puker after my painfully drunken display at Finn's. That wasn't your run of the mill vomitfest. Those were VICIOUS pukes, straight from the bowels of hell. That's what you get when all you eat for dinner is two plain, dry, untoasted English Muffins.

Today wasn't much better. It took me a half hour to sit up, another hour to stand up, another hour after that to eat a meal. Shit, I didn't get my fucking nap until like 5:30. It helped though, I didn't cause a 6-car pileup on I-5 like I thought I would

P.S. The Neptune can suck my balls. The lines for Fahrenheit 911 went from The Neptune on 45th all the way back to the WaMu on 43rd. WHY IS THAT THE ONLY THEATER SHOWING THE MOVIE IN SEATTLE; NOW I HAVE TO SEE IT IN LAKEWOOD!!!!!

Current Mood: I'm not wearing underpants
Current Music: Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out (Daft Punk Remix)