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Published: August 27th 2007
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Ok. It's been awhile, so let's try to sort this out. We haven't logged on in a while 'cause both Dave and I just got out of rehab. Not really, but it's plausible.
Actually, this webpage's server crashed for a couple of weeks, lost all of our entries and scrambled the photos. I think it's all sorted out, with the exception of Mike's journey to Mexico, which I still think I can repost somehow. Anyways, it's been about a month since a posting, both because of the technical difficulties, and some reckless drinking. Anyone with an office job will know what I'm talking about, when it comes to trying to type with a hangover. It'll make you puke. I've got a bunch of pictures from the time in between, which is good, because they help us remember things we've done.
Let's see, there was the Brewster Brew Run a few weeks ago. I forced my brother to run it while Dave, Whitney and I got annhiliated at the bar. We met a guy named Lenny who's wife and sister-n-law were also running. We bonded over shots of Cuervo and Jager... until Lenny was cut off. Then, we bought his shots
A Thursday
Chris took some vacation time to get blacked out with Sweatman for him. That was a certified shit-show.
What else? The next morning we went to the outer beach in Orleans. Rising before 8am (somehow) we washed away our hangovers in the Atlantic. We've been doing a lot of that lately; going to the beach all day and drinking foolishly. Also, for those who aren't aware, there is a great white shark mauling seals in sight of the shore out there lately. So, ignoring all common sense (and hoping something noteworthy happens for this webpage), Dave and I inflate a raft and decide to hunt the shark. Our little boat is called the SS "Igiveup", and we sail it proudly, chanting: "FACE DEATH! FACE DEATH!" over and over. That went on for a few hours, til Collin and Brion let the air out and Dave and I ran out of beers.
Hhhhhmmmmm.... I'm having trouble remember the past few weeks. Dave's useless cause he's reading the Tedy Bruschi autobiography, and he's like a hyperactive kid on his meds if you give him anything to do with the Patriots. He hasn't spoken for 20minutes and I'm not sure, but he might be learning. Seriously though, I think the last few
weekends have just about obliterated my long-term memory.
We had a circus this past weekend. Our boy Bruce has rejoined us from Santa Cruz for at least the next month or so. We took him surfing and drinking on Saturday. That quickly went from day-drinking to bender status. As Bruce and Furrey like to say, it was a "gong show." We left Dave on the beach around three pm. It's okay though, Ken Reeves was baby-sitting him. That turned out well, cuz he ended up passing out from 7-11pm. While he was out cold, Brion, Chris and I were reunited with our friend Rosie (back from a hell tour with the Peace Corp in Africa). We bought a ton of Red Bulls and brought them to the Barley Neck Inn, where proceeded to consume RedBulls n' Vodkas. We spaced those out with a healthy dose of CARBOMBS and shots of 'Buca. By the end of the night we were dancing with half the staff and carrying-on like idiots. One of the bartenders, Scott, had some dude on his back (since the dance floor had devolved to a near mosh-pit), so I jumped on Brion's shoulders and we danced like
that and had a chicken fight. Neither Brion or Chris recall this.
As the bar shut down, we charged on to the Double Dragon to stuff Chinese food in our faces and make fools of ourselves in public. Dave joined us there, after being at the Woodshed, where he too was consuming massive quantities of Red Bull n' Vodka. What followed was what happens when drunks are fed unhealthy doses of caffeine while in the throes of a first rate black out. Most of our fried rice ended up on the floor, while angry waiters vaccuumed around us. The table next to us was occupied by people who'd been out and boozing at the Barley Neck, so we were shouting loudly back and forth. Somewhere in there, Brion got confused. One of the girls at the table had a twin sister, and Brion thought he was speaking to one girl (joking about impregnating her), when he was in fact speaking to her sister (who doesn't know him well enough for that particular conversation). Well, her gigantic, South African, rugby-playing boyfriend wasn't too psyched with that line of conversation either. There might have been a scene, but it was straightened
out and we actually ended up drinking with the dude the next day on the beach. He was cool about the whole thing, which was good, because he was larger than us.
ok, I think that brings us to about now. Barring any other computer failures, we should be back and updating weekly again. With a Cape Cod winter looming, Bruce back, and Gibbons coming soon, there should be plenty of stories.
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Facin
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your blogs make me want to move back east. That, in turn, makes me realize how truly pathetic my motives are.