Me and the roommate had our first party this weekend in Santa Monica. We didn’t really it plan it well but we had a good crowd. Many methods of intoxication were present - from shot roulette, the ice luge, and the green keg.

Unfortunately for me, I tried (and ultimately failed) to chug a gallon of beer. I was just a couple of sips away, when the concoction of Jack Daniels and hot dogs in my stomach refused to let me finish the feat. Peer pressure and my stubbornness caused me to attempt the chug. The $10 wager on it, with my 2-1 odds only intensified the situation. I failed. I left the backyard like a former championship boxer who had gotten too old to fight. I didn’t want the crowd to see me as a loser.

I ran to the bathroom with Griffin following close behind. Too many people. I couldn’t evacuate them all at once. I managed to make it to the front yard, with a small crew of fans looking on, waiting for the inevitable. I did not disappoint. In a glorious final surge, I showed honor in my failure. I let loose an amazing green stream, which was projected four feet in front of me. I had managed to salvage my pride.

It was a great St. Patty’s Day 2008

“There can’t be good living where there is not good drinking.”

- Ben Franklin