This weekend I drank copious amounts of liquor. Defying modern science and biochemistry I awoke refreshed and unscathed. Apparently everyone thought I stuck my dick in the cake. I guess that's because I kept telling everyone I did. Hmmm.
The final few brave souls that kept up with me agreed to sample the local flair that is St. John's. My friend that had just moved here was quite impressed at how much it was like Branson, Missouri. On the way we had to ditch our beers 'cause the fuzz was near. The cops asked where we were going to which my friend replied just heading home. I would have none of the lies so I told the cop we were heading down to the bars to get wasted. He told me that there wasn't anything going on at the bars. Feeble mind trick that was.
First we hit Dad's to settle a bet but the cops had shut it down. Ok so movin' right along we hit Slims. I was forced to drink a dead nazi. Being as it was customary to drink what was offered amongst their people I obliged so as not to risk our good standing with the natives. I then immediately b-lined to the bathroom and super modeled that nazi out of my body. Mission accomplished. Next.
The Wishing Well.
Things get pretty hazy here. There were old ladies tending bar. They bought me a Rob Roy (that's a scotch manhattan for all you queer norwesters that think it is pepsi and grenadine) and laughed at my rants about dicks and cake.
At some point after that I was wearing a lawn ornament on my head and proclaiming beneficence.
yeah, yeah, yeah, anyway.
The final few brave souls that kept up with me agreed to sample the local flair that is St. John's. My friend that had just moved here was quite impressed at how much it was like Branson, Missouri. On the way we had to ditch our beers 'cause the fuzz was near. The cops asked where we were going to which my friend replied just heading home. I would have none of the lies so I told the cop we were heading down to the bars to get wasted. He told me that there wasn't anything going on at the bars. Feeble mind trick that was.
First we hit Dad's to settle a bet but the cops had shut it down. Ok so movin' right along we hit Slims. I was forced to drink a dead nazi. Being as it was customary to drink what was offered amongst their people I obliged so as not to risk our good standing with the natives. I then immediately b-lined to the bathroom and super modeled that nazi out of my body. Mission accomplished. Next.
The Wishing Well.
Things get pretty hazy here. There were old ladies tending bar. They bought me a Rob Roy (that's a scotch manhattan for all you queer norwesters that think it is pepsi and grenadine) and laughed at my rants about dicks and cake.
At some point after that I was wearing a lawn ornament on my head and proclaiming beneficence.
yeah, yeah, yeah, anyway.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
take your bike up lombard to that park at the end of the bus line. pier park i believe. some of the best trees and tree shadows in any of the city parks can be found there. (rivaled by columbia park, also on lombard, at about chatauqua.)
i can't believe you live in st john's. you're demented.