I owe you a tale. A tale of drunken hilarity. On the e-bus. In Austin, TX. (I promise no more fragments.)

Well a normal night in Austin (drinking on 6th street, almost getting tattoos, eating a Best Wurst) led myself and a group of some rowdy rabelrousers to the E-bus. We were trying to make our way to West Campus and ended up taking a long, loud, crazy bus trip.

We made our way to the back of the bus where a group of some drunken boys were already holding camp. I don't remember how it happened (very, very drunk) and I tried to decipher my notes (hastily written as I decided (drunkenly) that this would be good post material) but they are no help at all.

Apparently there was a guy in a knock-off lacoste polo shirt that had a HUGE Boston tattoo on his leg. His "friend" (brown shirt guy) proceeded to call him "Fag", and other names. This perked the ears of many in my group who would just assume join in on the shenanigans. Attacking him with a barrage of insults led to an extremely loud chant of "FUCK TOM BRADY" over and over and over again. One of my girlfriend's hand was sticking out in the aisle and she thought she brushed by his crotch as the bus hit a bump. Upon realizing she didn't, she let everyone know that she hit nothing because this guy "Had no balls!" After screaming this brown shirt guy let us know that his friend was in fact Jewish (I was under the impression that people of that faith weren't supposed to get tattoos, hmph) and "no one would want to fuck those Jewish balls." In his defense, sort of, he defended he love of all things Boston with great passion. Fucker had it coming. And I hope no one tries to "fuck his balls", no matter what his balls believe, because I have a feeling that would be an awkward sexual position.

After they had their share of attacking him (he finally moved to the front of the bus) it was made obvious that everyone at the back were Cowboy's fans. This started more chants of "FUCK TOM BRADY."

After the bus ride was over, we made our long trek down the street to my friends apartment. She happens to live quite close to quite a few frat houses so our chants of "FUCK TOM BRADY" were always echoed. One of our group said that he could sum up the weekend with just those three words.

Labels: ATX, drunken busrides, random, road trip, shenanigans, tom brady, tomfoolery

We made it. We survived getting Sake Bombed, fire (Inflammable means flammable? What kind of a country is dis?), road rage down 35, pawn shops, the San Antonio policia, Spurs fans, and hurricanes.

Labels: flirtin' with disaster, road trip

Well, Lauren and I have yet again confused St. Patrick's Day with Cinco de Mayo (how do these things keep happening?!), so we'll be spending the rest of the week in San Antonio. Coincidentally, the NCAA Tournament officially kicks off today, so you'll have plenty of sports action to keep you occupied while we're gone.

My bracket for the Pittsburgh Celebrity Blogger NCAA Pool should be up on Sportsocracy pretty soon should you feel the need to mock me mercilessly or to further question my already questionable judgment.

We'd like to wish everyone a Happy St. Patty's Day - and you kids stay safe. We'll just be trying to stay out of jail. We'll be back on Monday, or whenever our hangovers clear.




We've given you plenty of T, so we thought it was time for some A. Jeff Reed heartily approves. What's that Jeff? You like what you see on the left? Yeah...that's all me baby....

So 'til Monday friends. If any crazy shit goes down over the weekend, we damn well better be reading about it in our inboxes.

Labels: chronic alcoholism, flirtin' with disaster, holidays, jeff reed, ncaa, our fine asses, road trip

Tomorrow Mandy and I will embark on a road trip to see the long lost Tiffers.

I'm driving so there is a good chance of death.

In the event that Mandy and I should die, Tiffany knows what to do. But if for some reason Tiffany is unable to carry out our final wishes, you people are responsible.

#1- I want a full viking burial. But at a lake. I would like my fiery corpse to be pushed out to "sea" whilst out of one loudspeaker blares The Beach Boys' "Wouldn't it be nice?" (Oddly enough I also want this played at my wedding (in the far future).

#2- Mandy wants her corpse (not her ashes, her entire corpse) to be fired out of a cannon over my fiery corpse while simultaneously out of another loud speaker blares The 1812 Overture

#3- We want fireworks. LOTS of fireworks

#4- Instead of portraits of us, we want our GGS profile pics of our boobs to be used

#5- Tiffany is to give a moving eulogy/performance piece*

*preferably an interpretive dance to Boston's "More than a Feeling"

#6- Instead of a 21 gun salute, we want a 21 shots of the liquor of your choice salute

#7- In place of headstones we have requested that a stone bench be placed near the spot we met our watery grave. We want something engraved on it à la Johnny Mercer's gravestone in Savannah as described in "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil". (Tiffany knows what I'm talking about, if you don't LOOK IT UP)

Thanks friends. See you on the other side...

(Try not to miss us too much!)

Labels: death, no sports no shirts no problem, road trip