Well. Last night was the absolute drunkest I've been since....hmmm....last football season.
I went over to a friends house to watch the game.
I cracked open my first bud light at 9:25 am. I know that sounds early to some, but I needed something to chase the shot of fireball I took to get going.
Sometime later, I watched Lee Corso predict that Utah will beat Clemson in the CFP and lose to Alabama.
That was weird.
2:30pm....I fire the grill up. Burgers ensue. It's going to be a good day.
5pm central....I decide that I'll treat myself to SoCo and Sprite. This is a much tastier chaser for the fireball.
6pm....the game is nigh. I take a 5 Hour Energy so I can be crisp for the game and offset the alcohol.
6:01pm...Danny realizes that he is 30 and might have started too early.
6:02pm....Danny takes another shot and decides to drive 100 yards to the local Sunoco and grab more booze, energy shots, and cigarettes. This was a wise choice.
Kickoff: Fun and games are over. More alcohol is consumed. I demand no one talks to me until I'm satisfied with Florida's dominance.
All hell breaks loose.
Miami is blatantly holding our corners and I begin yelling.
Fast forward.
The game is 7-6 at this point and I'm losing my mind. Miami takes the lead. Focus groups say that my usage of F.U.C.K. and its derivates are entertaining but over the top.
The focus group is my friends 10 and 6 year old daughters who are inside and watching satisfying videos.
It is half time. Danny takes his whiskey and walks
Around the yard talking to himself and rationalizing why he should calm down.
Apologies occur while I'm pouring another whiskey drink and taking another shot.
Children are now watching videos of grown men freaking out and yelling. I can only hypothesize if I was the source of this inspiration.
Andrew Luck retires. My business partner (a tea-totaler) calls me to let me know. I pretend I'm cool, calm, and collected. Ruse successful.
4 minutes left in the game. I have accepted our fate, whether good or bad. Nothing affects me anymore. Nothing surprises me.
I celebrate our victory.
History of college football comes on.
I get into a heated discussion about racism
And athletic QBs and the deficiencies that most athletic QBs have because their athleticism gives them a safety blanket.
Danny realizes that the handle of SoCo is dwindling, as is the fireball.
I refill my coffers.
I do not finish my whiskey drink. Why? Quite simply, I have solved the worlds problems and now I might vomit.
Bed is near. I take deep breaths to avoid vomiting until I pass out.
Mission successful.
2:36am....Danny's last known time of being conscious.
12:05 pm....Sunday....I am alive. The shock at this can not be understated.
12:06pm....I check the board.
12:07pm....I pour myself a whiskey drink and take a shot.
1:37....3 drinks later I finish this update.
Good morning. 15 years on this board and counting.
I went over to a friends house to watch the game.
I cracked open my first bud light at 9:25 am. I know that sounds early to some, but I needed something to chase the shot of fireball I took to get going.
Sometime later, I watched Lee Corso predict that Utah will beat Clemson in the CFP and lose to Alabama.
That was weird.
2:30pm....I fire the grill up. Burgers ensue. It's going to be a good day.
5pm central....I decide that I'll treat myself to SoCo and Sprite. This is a much tastier chaser for the fireball.
6pm....the game is nigh. I take a 5 Hour Energy so I can be crisp for the game and offset the alcohol.
6:01pm...Danny realizes that he is 30 and might have started too early.
6:02pm....Danny takes another shot and decides to drive 100 yards to the local Sunoco and grab more booze, energy shots, and cigarettes. This was a wise choice.
Kickoff: Fun and games are over. More alcohol is consumed. I demand no one talks to me until I'm satisfied with Florida's dominance.
All hell breaks loose.
Miami is blatantly holding our corners and I begin yelling.
Fast forward.
The game is 7-6 at this point and I'm losing my mind. Miami takes the lead. Focus groups say that my usage of F.U.C.K. and its derivates are entertaining but over the top.
The focus group is my friends 10 and 6 year old daughters who are inside and watching satisfying videos.
It is half time. Danny takes his whiskey and walks
Around the yard talking to himself and rationalizing why he should calm down.
Apologies occur while I'm pouring another whiskey drink and taking another shot.
Children are now watching videos of grown men freaking out and yelling. I can only hypothesize if I was the source of this inspiration.
Andrew Luck retires. My business partner (a tea-totaler) calls me to let me know. I pretend I'm cool, calm, and collected. Ruse successful.
4 minutes left in the game. I have accepted our fate, whether good or bad. Nothing affects me anymore. Nothing surprises me.
I celebrate our victory.
History of college football comes on.
I get into a heated discussion about racism
And athletic QBs and the deficiencies that most athletic QBs have because their athleticism gives them a safety blanket.
Danny realizes that the handle of SoCo is dwindling, as is the fireball.
I refill my coffers.
I do not finish my whiskey drink. Why? Quite simply, I have solved the worlds problems and now I might vomit.
Bed is near. I take deep breaths to avoid vomiting until I pass out.
Mission successful.
2:36am....Danny's last known time of being conscious.
12:05 pm....Sunday....I am alive. The shock at this can not be understated.
12:06pm....I check the board.
12:07pm....I pour myself a whiskey drink and take a shot.
1:37....3 drinks later I finish this update.
Good morning. 15 years on this board and counting.
