3/18/06

Last night the feuding and fussing was put aside at the metrognomedome (also known as my house) for my annual St. Patrick’s Day party. I prepare the traditional corned beef and accompaniments, provide copious amounts of Guinness and turn the living room into a piano bar, where I perform popular songs, traditional Irish songs, and dirty piano bar songs. The festivities commenced at 7:00 and wound down (mercifully) at 2:00 AM. During this timeline, the following things were rumored to have occurred:
 
·       People who hate corned beef liked mine, furthering my desire to start the personal chef business
·       My friend Patrick tended bar, making “Irish car bombs”
·       Two of my pint glasses were shattered – the assholes didn’t even have the decency to yell “opah’
·       “J” was offended by the dirty songs and fled to the spare room to commiserate with the cats
·       A female guest paraded topless in the backyard after too many car bombs
·       I had to loan jeans to someone who puked on himself (outside, fortunately)
·       I woke up this morning to find a mysterious pair of shoes in my bathroom
·       Someone pissed on my grapefruit tree (I hope it dies – I hate that fucking thing)
·       The neighbors didn’t call the cops, perhaps out of sympathy
·        I discovered the best way to assemble a black and tan is with an inverted tablespoon. 
·       I also discovered topless girl REALLY likes black and tans
·       I unleashed the water hose on a couple attempting to fuck behind my barbecue pit
·       A “MILF” friend of mine brought her teenage son with her
·       Female guests drooled over said son, who got FUBAR’ed
·       Said son hit on teacher friend of mine
·       After this, I sent MILF friend and said son home
·       I thought about applying to law school after explaining to “J” the loop holes in the 21 yr. old drinking age statute for minors with their parents
·       I decided to let someone else host next year’s St. Patrick’s Day party
·       I woke this morning also to discover I was still married and J didn’t sleep in the spare room – wonders never cease