Wednesday, March 14, 2007


Erin Go Bragh, Y'all

I'm off to the Lowcountry for my second annual trek to Savannah's St. Patrick's Day celebration. Since there's so little going right now in the world of ASU athletics, here's a repost of last year's shenanigans. Enjoy, and I'll be back next week.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Savannah St. Patty's day weekend summary
Current mood: ouchy

I feel like I was just hit by a big green truck. There are a number of bruises and cuts on my body right now and not sure how most of them got there. Ahhhh, Savannah. I'll do my best to recall some of the highlights.

There were an estimated 400,000 people at the River Street celebration.

I fell off of a lifeguard tower. For those of you that have never been to that part of the country, the beach sand is extremely compacted because of the shape of the coastline. Yeah, it felt like pavement. I have a great scab on my left elbow now.

Based on the bar scene on nearby Tybee Island, my best guess is that the word "Tybee" is derived from the Gullah term for white trash.

Scotty, extroardinarily inebriated, was standing in front of a gay bar and heard the song "It's Raining Men." In his best "look how cool I am" voice, he turns to me and says "Apparently it's raining men," and turns around and walks into the gay bar. We just let him go, not that there's anything wrong with that. He returned to the street less than sixty seconds later, making sure to tell us we were assholes. I almost wet myself I was laughing so hard.

There was a strip club in Savannah that was advertising a breakfast special known as "Legs and eggs, tits and grits." God bless the South.

There was a house on Tybee Island that, as an eccentric landscaping tool, had a toilet filled with flowers in their front yard. Dan peed in it, and I took a picture of him doing so. It should be up on one of our myspace pages any day now.

Freshley autographed a girl's boob.

Through an unknown set of circumstances the maid never visited our hotel room the entire weekend. The room "looked like it got punched in the dick." Scott, you're quite the poet.

There was a large number of police officers congregated on one part of River Street. Scott walked up to two of them and said "you guys are like f#*king rabbits." Shortly after he said it, he realized that it might have been taken out of context as both officers were African American. You'll be happy to know that Scott is alive and is not incarcerated.

A bagpipe and drum corps played "God Bless America" very late Saturday night as several hundred onlookers sang the lyrics, arm in drunken arm. Of the four of us, I was somehow the only one who found this sight to be absolutely f#*king amazing. I was so blown away I started crying and called my girlfriend. That could have been the booze talking, though.

The four of us spent an estimated total of $2000 this weekend. Keep in mind we got free cab rides, free hotel rooms, and a free breakfast on Friday. A week ago I was really excited that Richmond's St. Patrick's festival is this upcoming wekend, March 25. Now I don't even want to go. I'm so incredibly over green beer. I just want to sleep for about a week.

On one last note, my birthday is coming up on April 27. The tentative plan is to celerate at Chuck E. Cheese's. In case you haven't heard, they serve beer there. Let's all go get wasted and play some whack-a-mole! Until then, the only social activities I'll be attending are AA meetings.

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