So, I am pretty sure I am officially out of my funk. Thank gaud, right? I got connected with some people participating in a self-organized, urban pub crawl. Wondering what a pub crawl is? I was when I happened upon them. What they decided to do was go to an area they knew had a lot of bars. Walk to the end of that street, cross over and walk back up. All the while, stopping into every single bar and ordering at least one beer. If the place is lame, you suck down your beer as quick as possible and move to the next one. If it’s a nice place, you may consider having more than one belt before going to the next watering hole. I thought this sounded like a lot of fun–getting sloppy with a bunch of complete strangers. The only hitch was that we went to a lot of way crappy bars. I think I took down 6 beers in no more than thirty minutes. My limit is usually two beers per hour. Needless to say, I was tossed. Not in an unfun, unmanageable way though. But instead, I was drunk in a rowdy and fun sort.
I made friends with nearly every bartender and got free drinks. I actually got a bartender to give me a free pitcher for going in the back room and letting him watch me masturbate. Talk about a win-win situation for me!
By the end of the night I was literally crawling from pub to pub. So, pub crawl is a good name for the event.
At the end of the evening I crawl into a cab, knocked on my neighbor’s door, and crawled into his bed. After all that drinking, I needed to do something to work it off–or someone. We didn’t do anything especially nasty. Just a couple times with me on top and a handful of times of plain, old missionary style. Sometimes that is just the way to go, especially when you are too drunk to hold up your own head.
Anyway, I need an aspirin, water, and desperately need to get some sleep. Come over if you want to rub my shoulders.