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Friday, January 21, 2005


I want to thank everyone for the birthday wishes. I had an incredible time. My mom called me on the way home from work and told me she had pizza and ice cream cake. My dad is out of town on business that's why that was kinda lame. We are going out Sunday for lunch to celebrate. I took my brother back to the dorms and picked up my roommate, Dave, and headed out to Paddy Wagon's.

Paddy Wagon's is a little Irish bar about as Irish as something in KY can get. I guess it's Irish because they serve Guiness and Harp. When I was growing up the place was this hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint. Supposedly it was pretty good but it looked so dirty. Anyway. Paddy Wagon has this thing called the "Beer Card". On it are all the beers that they serve. If you drink all of them you get your name on the bar. Now that is the coolest.

We met a buddy and co-worker there, and I started off with a Red Stripe. Our server was too sweet she made us Beer Cards, even marked on mine the beers I had from the last time I was there and never got a card made. She even offered me a shot for my birthday. A Serria Nevada and a Coors Light later we are shooting the shit about work, lusting after the hotties at work, and wondering when they are gonna hire our asses full-time.

Our server told us last call was in a few minutes. I sat there contemplating if I wanted another beer. I said, "Shit, it's my birthday." Our server said, "You still want your shot." "Yeah." "What do you want, tequila?" "Oh god no. I only drink tequila if it's in a margarita. Make it Jager."

Then I said, "Might as well get this one over with. Give me a PBR." "We are out of Pabst. Here if you want the nastiest stuff we got. It's the Dixie Voodoo." "OK"

I got my Jager and realized I should have asked for some Red Bull. Jager Bombs, baby. I got my Red Bull and my Dixie Voodoo. Pounded my Jager Bomb down. Augh, that beer tasted like soap. Our server didn't even charge me for the last beer or the Red Bull. I tried to make her fix it, but she wouldn't. Paddy Wagon's is going to become a Thursday tradition. Finished that swill off and we headed out.

Just as we were arriving home our next door neighbors, two hot sorority girls, were getting out of their car. We had some pleasantries at the door as Dave stalled opening the door. Good man. For a brief second we needed to get the nerve up, I grabbed the half case of Rolling Rock and headed next door. Knocked. "Who is it?" "The Neighbors." The sober one answers the door, "We are partied out." Damn. Cock blocked by the DD.

Ah. It was a good night people. But the true festivities are next weekend, when I have my January Birthdays Bash. If you are gonna be in the area on the twenty-ninth be sure to stop by.