If there isn’t any one thing that is more furious with me, it’s my liver. For this gay, Saint Patty’s Day was by all means an epic proportion of everything awesome. Which translates to “I don’t remember shit”. I know I’m posting my Saint Patty’s Day weekend adventures a day late, but you don’t understand the hangover I had yesterday. Saint Patrick’s Day, however, is supposed to be a day commemorating the spread of Christianity to Ireland and I commemorate that by fucking any hot, drunk, straight guy I see. There once was a time when I fucked a straight guy on Saint Patrick’s Day whose name was actually Patrick. Talk about being lucky.
Anyways, my celebration began on a Thursday night where I was eye-fucked and hit on by a girl. I can admit, being hit on by an attractive girl does something to me, but little did she know I was eye-fucking the blonde guy behind her. It just happened that our eyes crossed paths and before I knew it, I was dancing with her. Of course, it was my-ass-to-her-vagina type of dancing, but that didn’t slow me down. I rode her vagina till it was sore. After my friends and I left that bar, we walked right next door to the other bar. This bar was definitely slow-paced due to the fact that there was only about six people in the damn place. As I was ordering my Blue Motorcycle, I caught the eye of a hot guy sitting right next to me. Once the bartender handed me my drink, I heard him speak.
“Hey, that drink looks cool. What are you drinking?”
“Oh, it’s called a Blue Motorcycle. It’s really good!”
“Mmmm. I bet it is…”
After making small talk with him and signing my bill, I turned to my right to finally look into his eyes and have a great conversation with him. Only, when I turned to talk to him, his eye wasn’t looking at me, but yet he was still talking to me. I shifted my vision from looking at his right eye to then looking at his left eye. His left eye was starkly piercing my eyes attentively as I was looking right at it. That’s when it struck me: my future ex-boyfriend was crossed-eyed. He later then caught on to me noticing he was cross-eyed because my eyes would keep changing line of focus from one eye to the next. He then got up and actually left the bar. He was so hot. Sad. Later on after walking to the car from the bar, my friend and I encountered a man who was sitting on railing and then fell flat on his face and ate concrete. My friend and I looked at each other and then around us to see if anyone was going to help, except there was literally no one around but us two and Humpty Dumpty. After realizing that we were the only ones who would have to help this man, we ran over to him to help his drunk ass up. After getting him up, we asked him where his friends were and if he had a cell phone. His response could only be reenacted by Chewbacca and Charlie Brown’s teacher. We soon then left him and let him continue to be a mess and proceeded to go home.
After waking up on Friday with a hangover only a masochist would love, I began to make plans for my night out on the town for that evening. Friday nights have always been my favorite night to party and since it was Saint Patrick’s Day weekend, nothing could top the drink specials. My group of friends made our way to our local bar and decided to ring in the weekend with a bang. This bar had the best drink special I had ever heard: $1 Drinks All-Night. After the bartender told me that, my world all of a sudden became brighter. You know those Claritin-D commercial where they all of a sudden see “Claritin clear”? That’s how it was for me after ordering drinks off a dollar menu. I became a drunk mess within the next hour. As I went to the bar for my 17th drink, the bartender told me he wasn’t serving me anymore. It was right then and there did I have sympathy for Lindsay Lohan because she has had that happen to her countless times and let me tell you something, being cut off from the bar is the worst buzz kill ever. I became furious and insinuated that he was racist, thus calling him a cunt. I walked away and then all of my worries disappeared when I heard the DJ playing “Macarena”. I lost my shit like it was 1996 all over again and twerked harder than Beyonce at The Super Bowl.
On Saturday, I slept throughout the whole day and woke up on Saint Patrick’s Day with my liver and I ready to take on the day. As my friends and I entered our favorite Irish pub, we encountered our friend throwing up his crab dip all over the booth where were about to sit. He had began drinking at 2 p.m. that day and it was currently 9 p.m. that night. Even though we started our Saint Patty’s celebration really late, our friend drank for us. He was spotted by a bouncer and escorted outside. I spotted an old friend of mine at the bar and went over to say hi to her. She and I then decided to do shots of Irish Car Bombs. After that, I slipped into a drunken haze where I ended up ordering two Screwdrivers, a glass of Pinot Grigio, a Natty Light (WTF?), and two Rum & Cokes. I was dancing with more girls than the straight guys and I feel as if the straight guys were applauding me for not being a so-called “pimp” but twerking harder and sexier than all of the girls at the pub. After hours of dancing and smoking cigarettes, I went over to the bar to order another Screwdriver. The bartender ended up giving me the drink for free cause I was hot. If only it was a male bartender. As I was sipping my drink, I turn around and see a a guy giving attitude to my friend. As I walked over there, she kept saying, “No, this is my coat. I don’t know where your coat is. Do you shop at Burberry? I don’t think so…” He then began to spew all this bullshit and saying “FUCK YOU SLUT! FUCK YOU AND YOUR CUNT ATTITUDE!” That’s when the inner diva came out in me and I went up to this big, strong, sexy, angry man and said “DON’T YOU EVER SAY THAT TO MY FRIEND YOU ASSHOLE. I WILL FUCKING TAKE YOU!” I immediately began to adjust my black suede heeled boots in order to fight when the bouncer came up to my hot enemy and took him outside. That was my first time ever getting into a bar skirmish with a straight man. I felt alive. Like any buzz, that alive feeling wore off as soon as I came home and crashed in my bed.
How was your Saint Patty’s Day celebrations? Actually, never mind, I’m exhausted…