So Minneapolis....I left about noon on Friday, arrived about 7pm, and boozed til about 3am. Woke up, started drinking when we teed off at 10am, and stayed saucy until 4am that night. Then turned around and was on the road again at 11am on Sunday. So if you're scoring at home, that's 14 hours of driving, 14 hours of sleeping/eating breakfast/showering, and 26 hours of drinking. Or, by using selective endpoints, we can make it sound more badass: Starting Friday night at 7, I was drunk for 26 of the next 33 hours.
During my insanely hungover drive home on Sunday, I saw a deer get absolutely destroyed by a car on the interstate. And my second
thought (right after "HOLY FUCK!!!") was that I was just a tiny bit jealous of the
deer, since at least it was all over for him now, while I still had a bunch of
interstate in front of me, and this hangover was effing brutal.
And we haven't even got to the part yet where Sunday night was Hendo's going-away party, so I had to go out drinking AGAIN that night. A true bender, especially for a 31-year-old.
So all of this is to say that a recap post will be coming, but you've got to give me some time to recover-- mentally, physically, and emotionally. So you should see something from me sometime in mid-October.
I know I've used this joke at least once at some point in this blog's existence, but basically this hangover is the equivalent of Owen Wilson's entire life during the last half hour of Wedding Crashers. I've been trying to come up with a name for it, like maybe calling it a 'Beckwith' in honor of his character's name or something like that, but ironically enough, I've been too hungover to come up with one. Does anyone ever feel like they're disappearing?