Dip Be Damned! I’m The Manhole Zombie!!

I think that quote pretty much sums up the evening.

The Boston trip was a rousing success. A mighty purple Ford Focus was rented from Enterprise, which was fortunate, because it would soon be filled with vomit. korzak was horribly and hideously drunk, as was the Big Mac, who booted on himself at around 8pm after doing something called a “Car Bomb” (which was, in fact, “Kerosene”) and deciding to shake up the contents of his stomach with an impromptu dance number; not that he was the only one, as many gamers figured that the alcohol enabled their dancing genes, which have long lay dormant in shame (yours truly included, though I believe I remember doing some sort of capoeria back-roll to prove how dextrous I was). E-money drove us back to black afrob’s house, where we prevailed upon Annie to care for us at 5am. (A-dawg says Annie should be nominated for sainthood, because my wife would have made us sleep in the snow. Hell, Annie’s ALREADY a saint for putting up with her sig other).

As great and bullet-proof as we felt on Saturday night, it couldn’t hold a candle to how crappy we felt on Sunday. I decided my liver hadn’t had enough abuse and dumped an Advil on its pickled goodness despite the Surgeon General’s orders (my court martial is next week). This would be good, for I had to drive some very unfortunate and sad people home, one of whom threw up when there was mention of Vanilla Coke. The story went something like this:

emoney – “Man, I wish I had a vanilla coke right now.”

So, I’ve learned that the rental car was the Best Idea Ever, and I’m looking forward to next year. I’ll probably need that long to recover.

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