Tuesday, May 31, 2005

The Cod God Be Sicketh-Part 3

Saturday 5/21 FINALLY!!

Well, the doc was (surprise, surprise) in bright and early at 7:05 and boy was she cooperative. She actually put me on the morphine pump and everything.

While she was doing that, I had asked if the lack of timely service from the nurses was the result of being terribly busy or what. She informed me that it was “Nothing terrible. Why?”

I mentioned that the night before I had buzzed the nurse’s desk several times only to be ignored and that it took an act of congress just to get one in here for my roommate or myself.

She tersely said “I did not know that” and left the room immediately. She came back a few minutes later and told me that the people at the desk weren’t passing along any of her instructions to the nurses….ever.

Man, she was PISSED!!

I found out later from someone else that she had ripped all the ladies at the desk a new one and threatened to report them if they did it again. She must have looked like a psychotic Chihuahua barking at the neighborhood kids while she did it....all 4'10" and 90lbs of her. It's nice to know, and see, that it was just a lack of communication. Albeit, an important lack, but just a lack.

The whole episode did end up making me feel a little bit better, but I also felt kind of guilty that I had been so pissed off at the doctor the whole time. Then again, it may have just been the continuous flow of narcotics coursing through my veins. Oh well, at least it everything was all straightened out after that.


Another high point of the day was when my nurse surprised me with a ginger ale of a wonderful vintage from her own personal collection. It was fragrant, crisp, and dry with just a hint of L'ouvrier en sueur d'usine. That was followed up with a delightful collection of L'eau gelée de robinet de Portsmouth. It was the absolute pinnacle of fine dining.

The rest of the day ended up being my most comfortable day of the week... and boy did those desk jockeys page those nurses awfully quick whenever someone paged them. It was like someone had reminded them that they are there to help others, not help themselves to the last donut in the break room. I wonder why.

Good times.

Sunday 5/22

Today was probably the most mentally draining day of my stay. Yeah, yeah…I know. It would only take an eyedropper to mentally drain me. Har-fucking-har Bface and Bob.

A few of the reasons that it blew monkeys so bad was…

  1. the day started off by the cafeteria sending up a plate of food for me by accident but the nurse ended up sending it away when it got to the door….talk about the ultimate Cod-tease
  2. I was still physically wiped out from the abortion that was Friday
  3. I only slept two hours
  4. I was still at square one as far as my diet was concerned…ice chips and ginger ale all around! Maybe they’ll bring me the gourmet ice if I ask nicely
  5. The usual doctor didn’t come in today; it was some Doogie Howser looking dude whose mother didn’t know that he was out playing doctor.

and so on…

As far as I-Was-A Teenaged-Doctor was concerned, he came in exuding confidence. I think that when he was looking at some scribbles on a torn envelope produced from his back pocket, furrowed his brow and asked if I was “Hank”, that it became obvious that I was in good hands.

Of course, I thought that he was joking so I replied that “Hank” was at Mass General having a colonoscopy just for fun.

He then started quickly shuffling through his three other torn up envelopes looking really confused.

I really couldn’t believe what I was seeing before me. After watching him squirm for a minute or two, I let him off the hook by suggesting that he take a gander at that thing cleverly disguised as my chart so conveniently located under the big sign that had my name on it. That seemed to help him out a bit.

While we talked about the usual doctor-patient shit, I didn’t end up offering up too much in the way off information. I wanted to see if he could actually read. Luckily, he could.

While all this way going on, a quick thought of the former Washington Redskins could’ve-been-great defensive end, Dexter Manley went though my head (yeah, I know…it went though my head because there was nothing to stop it). He went through 4 years of college and couldn’t even read! I was really hoping that lightning hadn’t struck twice.

Anyways, after Doogie went away to lament over life’s biggest mysteries like how those little bubbles get in those cans of soda and why is it “I before E except after C?”, everything settled into a giant bore-fest that continued throughout the rest of the day.

No wife.

No kids.

It was Sunday morning so there was nothing on TV except for those holy-roller shows.

The nurse was so ugly that there was no point in calling her just to watch her handle my pee on my demand.

The new roommate was snoozing….and snoring. Speaking of him, when he stumbled in the day before I thought that he looked familiar. After seeing him a couple of more times I realized from where that I knew him from. He was an ex-fisherman who still hung around the pier on occasion to visit his friends. Not only that, but his wife ended up being one of my eldest son’s teachers. It’s a small world, I guess.

Eventually, the day took a giant turn for the better. I was sitting there daydreaming about blondes and Benelli’s when the one and only Wheel Gun Bob and his roommate came stumbling in reeking of old whiskey, cheap perfume and fresh mimosa’s.

At first I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t bring me any guns or porn, but he did bring me the one thing that could use to access both at once.

A laptop computer!

Oh, lucky day!

Seriously, I was psyched to get it. I only wish that one of us had thought about it earlier in my stay, but oh well. Better late than never, right? (as a young buck, I almost had that phrase tattooed on my back…it became my mantra, always while waiting for my various lady-friends' menstrual cycle to begin)

After a chat about the usual stuff (guns and women…where they are and why aren’t we holding one right at this moment? ), Wheel Gun Bob and his roommate headed off for the Late-Risers Brunch at the local Guns n’ Gash club.

That having occurred, I sat back for the rest of the day and watched some TV doped-up on morphine and thanked god that I was one day closer to death.

Next post....

Part 4-Things are looking up!

Saturday, May 28, 2005

The Cod God be Sicketh- Part 2

Wednesday 5/20
Let the misery commence….

My day begins by waking up with severe pain and having to ring my buzzer three times over the course of an hour just to get a shot of morphine. The last time that I was in this hospital for the same problem they immediately hooked me up to one of those pumps that let you shoot yourself up every so often. For some reason, even after I asked, I didn’t get one this time around. Man, I would kill for one of those now.

After listening to Mr. I’m-A-Famous-Artist for half OF the day they find, and move me to, a more appropriate room. Unfortunately, this one isn’t a private room either and I’m amongst all the old bastards that are on their way out. All of a sudden, a few days in the hospital don’t seem so bad.

My new roommate is as older guy named Don who ends up being in here for the same thing as me. He’s been fighting his for 22 years, though. Apparently he went on a straight-vodka bender that landed him in the hospital for the 3rd time in 3 months. Hell, even back when I could drink a lot I couldn’t have done that. I probably would have keeled over after the 2nd day.

Don has been in at least 40 times in his life and this is the first time that he ever admitted drinking to the doctor. Jesus, and I thought that I was dumb.

Anyways, he was totally cool and we got along great.

This day sucked….bad. I could only eat ice chips and the nurses took their sweet fucking time giving me a shot. If any of you have ever been in severe pain, every minute seems like an hour. I was ready to take the big plunge but I would have had to climb over Don and that would have made for an awkward moment or two. I make it a rule to not get into a strange man’s bed until he has at least bought me a drink….or asked me nicely.

That’s about all there is to report for this day. Lots of TV, lots of pain and lots of lying in bed.

Thursday 5/19

Today started out ok.

I woke up after the first decent night of sleep that I have had in some time to a surprisingly reduced amount of pain. Of course, I immediately began dreaming of going home in the next day or so….and cheeseburgers. Nothing to do but sit and wait.

After my doctor leisurely rolled in around 11-fucking-30, she decided that I could actually try eating more than ice chips. I could have some liquid!!

Oh yeah, good times. If I’m REALLY lucky I may be able to have some cream of chicken soup tonight.

Oh, lucky day

One thing that is not only concerning me, but the wife as well is that she hasn’t called in a specialist to check me out yet. The last time that I came in for pancreatitis I had two gastroenteroligists trying to fix me (an impossible task) to go along with my regular doctor. Maybe she knows more than she’s letting on. After all, her grandfather is C. Everett Coop. Anyone who is related to a guy who sported a kickass whaler’s beard must know something. Right?

After a lovely lunch of chicken broth and red jello, I was feeling so pumped up I did a half a sit-up in bed.

One thing that is becoming more and more of a problem is that it is taking the nurses longer and longer to bring me anything. I know that they are busy and all, but jesus, it took an hour on two consecutive occasions to get their ass in my room. We’ll just have to see what happens tonight.

Wow. Another filling dinner of broth, jello and an Italian Ice. I’m living large, Yo.

A quick aside…. after lying in bed while watching TV and starving to death I have come to the conclusion that the reason that us Americans are so fat is that every other ad on TV is for food. Pay attention to the amount of ads some time, it’s ridiculous. My fat ass would’ve never noticed if I weren’t watching the Food Channel with a fervor usually reserved for the local pervert at an All-You-Can-See peepshow.

Well, we’ll see how I feel tomorrow when I wake up. I might actually be able to ingest something that involves the use of a utensil….not that I use them.

Friday 5/20- The Wrath of Missy

I woke up today all wound up and ready to go. I wasn’t very sore and the Dr actually rolled her ass out of bed before noontime to let me know that I can try and eat something real today! Immediately I heard a bell ringing and some fat, drunk guy with a dirty apron sticking his head around a covered wagon and screaming “COME AND GET IT!!!”

I perused that menu with as much gusto as Bill Clinton cruising for heifers after the local Weight Watchers meeting gets out. After about .6 seconds of deliberations, I ordered the first thing that I saw. Scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice were the choice.

It was like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one!

After gobbling down the best damn eggs ever, I sat back for a while feeling quite happy and content. Hell, after going 5 days without food and then being allowed to eat some, it’s better than sex. (sorry Missy, but it is)

Then the pain hit.

It started off innocently enough with just a twinge or two of pain about an hour or so after I finished the best damn eggs ever. At first, I thought that it was just my stomach adjusting to having something solid in it for the first time in a while.

But, I was wrong.

It became worse and worse and the afternoon went on. Of course, (I'm assuming) the sadistic nurses thought that I was exaggerating and hamming it up a bit just to get some more drugs. Obviously they had never been through this type of pain before, because if you had, you’d be one sympathetic bastard. I know that I would be. And don't give me any of that feministic "giving birth is the worst pain ever...blah blah blah" crap. If it was that bad, there wouldn't be anyone with more than one child in this world. Now shut up, get back in the kitchen and cook me something. You'll get your reward later....if you're lucky.

After my usual shot didn’t touch the pain at all, I finally convinced the fat-bitch nurse to call the doc. About an hour later the nurse came in and informed me that doctor feel-bad had okayed a “one-time” additional dose of morphine. After getting shot up, I knew that I was in trouble when that didn’t work at all. Unfortunately, no one except the wife believed that I was still in so much pain.

Now, I had asked for a “on-demand” pain medication pump when I first got in there but ole Doc-Ignore-Whatever-My-Patient-Says shit on that idea from the get go. Now I was paying the price.

After those rocket scientists watched me flopping around like a epileptic mackerel, they came to the conclusion that I may be “in a bit of discomfort.”



That’s it.

Listen nursie…let me show you the kind of “discomfort” that I am in. I’ll run your boobs through a wood planer four or five times. That ought to do it, you moron.

Hell, at that point I would have gladly spanked it with a fistful of thumbtacks while bathing in a tub full of vinegar than to be going through what I was.

Discomfort. Hmmph.

Anyways, after they tracked down super-doc and explained my “discomfort” to her, she “allowed” me another shot. Luckily, that one put enough of a damper on the pain to keep me from ending it all by doing a double-gainer with a half-twist out of my window. Still, she still didn’t ok the pump. What do I have to do? Have my pancreas burst through my chest like “The Thing” and latch onto her face?

The wife had gone home at this point but had called in a little later on just to check in and see how I was doing. After she heard what had gone down, she wasn’t very impressed with anyone at the hospital. It was like they were ignoring what I was saying and acting like they were doing me a favor just to come into my room. Actually, they probably were. I can just imagine how hard it must be to stop eating after you’ve waddled your fat ass to the horse trough to chomp on some pig-slop. Hell, my nurse would waddle in like her table scraps were only on her 2nd stomach at the time and she needed some more time so it could finish digesting in her 4th stomach.

Anyways, the wife finally had enough of getting the runaround from everyone and decided to call the doctor’s office herself to see if another doc was on call….preferably ours. What she got was forwarded to another hospital in the area. Apparently, the hospital has some sort of call-in service where they can determine if you need emergency help or whatnot. Well, Missy mentioned what was going on up here and the nurse there was just incredulous. The nurse said that she would immediately call the doc herself and let her know what was going on.

Now, just for the record, I’m not comfortable going over anyone’s head like that but the wife knew that I was hurting and with her wanting to be the only woman to cause me excruciating pain in my life, she was having none of it.

Surprisingly (not!), 10 minutes after she hung up there was a “physician call” for my nurse. 5 minutes after that the nurse in my room tending to my every need. Well, not every need (unfortunately) but you get the picture.

The rest of the night went fairly smooth through a morphine glow with the exception of one hour and a half stretch where I couldn’t get anyone to come in to my room. Not only for me, but my roommate was having some kind of breathing fit as well and I had to flag a nurse down as she wandered by so he wouldn’t drop dead right next to me. Not exactly the best service that I have ever encountered.

Part 3 will be coming on Monday night or Tuesday morning...

Thursday, May 26, 2005

The Cod God be Sicketh- Part 1

[This is some of what transpired while I was at the hospital. It won't be terribly funny or written very well. Some of the details are missing/forgotten Just thought that I'd warn you.]

Hello all my little Cod and Coddette’s. I start writing to you today from the cozy confines of a bed located on the 4th floor of Portsmouth Hospital. I’ve been hanging out here since Monday (or was it Tuesday?) afternoon…mostly for the drugs.

Sorry to disappoint all you ladies (and Bob) but I’m not in here for a penile extension or a breast reduction. Just plain old pancreatitis.

Well, I shouldn’t say “plain old” because it hurts like a motherfucker!! Unfortunately, I shouldn’t even be here, but I learn slowly and I’m very stubborn. I’ll give you guys a day-by-day breakdown of what it’s been like this time (I had it last summer as well…much, much worse) and you can see how much fun that I am having.

Monday Night 5/16

I had my usual two drinks and later that night barfed twice. Not the normal course of events.

Here are some random thoughts that occurred to me over the course of the evening…
“I hope that this is the flu”
“Why am I so damn good looking?”
“This can't be a good thing.”
“My uncle has luscious breasts, even if they are a little saggy.”
"Were those my shoes?"

You get the picture….

Tuesday 5/17

I woke up with a little stomachache, but nothing that concerned me very much. Then it got a bit worse. And worse. Then I got sick at 1 in the afternoon and I knew that I was screwed.

So, off to the emergency room.

Luckily, there was no one there ahead of me so they took me in immediately. After the usual questions from the nurse and several disapproving looks after admitting that I was in the hospital for the same thing last year, they took me in.

After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, some lackey came in, hit me with some pain meds and took some blood. After laying there for a couple of hours while rotating between self-loathing and anger, the Dr came in and confirmed what I already knew, it pancreatitis again.

Oh joy.

Time to spend a few days hopped up on pain meds and eating nothing but ice chips! Woohoo! Actually, it’s really not as glamorous as it sounds. I know, hard to believe but it’s true.

(F.Y.I.- The way to “fix” pancreatitis is to immediately stop eating or drinking anything stronger than some ice chips so the pancreas can rest and control the pain. That’s about all you can do. It kinda blows. The only thing that makes it worse is when you have a roommate; he gets to eat his 3 meals a day and they have to carry them right past your bed. I’m telling you, they should have used that as torture at Abu-Ghraib instead of putting panties on their head(s) and having dog leashes put around their necks. Hell, that sounds like the average Friday night at my house. Moving on..)

Well, they must had a busy weekend because it took them 5 hours to find me a room and that one ended up being in the surgical recovery wing. Not exactly the place that you want to be when you have a gut problem.

After another long delay, I ended up being shacked up with some dude that was recovering from appendicitis whose favorite sentence was “I had morphine today.”

I don't know why he thought that I would need to hear that over and over, but he did.

It invariably went like this....

Him- I had morphine today

Me- yeah, I know...you just told me

Him- Yup. It’s not like you see in the movies

Me- yeah, you said that

Him- yeah, I had morphine...(giggle)

Me- (muttering to self) of all the fucking rooms....in all the fucking hospitals


He actually ended up being a pretty cool guy who apparently is some sort of big deal as an artist but I think that he was a bit disappointed when I had no clue who the fuck he was.

Him- I'm an artisit

Me- (writhing in pain) yup...um hmm...great

Him- my name is (blank)

Me- yeah

Him- ever hear of me?

Me- um...no....listen, I'm kind of hurting here...

Him- (interrupting)You’ve never heard of me?

Me- nope

Him- I’ve been in all of the papers and on TV tons of times

Me-great.... sounds cool...I really can't talk right now

Him- I’ve had shows all over New England

Me- sorry, I haven’t heard of you....listen....

Him- do you ever go to the Kingston Library?

Me- (pause)… I told you that I live in Portsmouth

Him- Yeah, I know

Me- (silence)

Him- I had morphine today

Me- (slapping forehead)

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Sometime Thursday...

..there will be a new post up.

Part one on the fun that was the hospital.

- Hoss

Monday, May 23, 2005

Red Sox and Morphine

[Colin asked me to put this up for him. Seems there is no internet connection at the hospital. I offered to do it in exchange for a bag of morphine. - Wheel Gun Bob]

Well, here I am on day number 6 at Portsmouth Hospital. I’ll fill you in as to why I’m here and how previous 6 days have gone after this running diary of Sunday’s Red Sox-Atlanta Braves game. Without further adieu….

2pm- Here I am ready for the game joined by some saline solution, a intravenous “feedbag” and 1ml of morphine every 8 mins….let the good times roll!

2:05- Matt Clement who is sporting a nifty 4-0 record and a set of balls on his chin starts out by striking out Rafael Furcal and Marcus Giles (yeah, he NEVER took steroids!) …Clement looks good….well, he doesn’t, his pitching does…then again, those balls are quite handsome

2:15- Father time John Smoltz gets things going for the ex Beantowners….personally, I think that he should have stayed in the bullpen but apparently it was hindering his golf game and god forbid another millionaire white guy misses a tee time

2:30- big surprise! We had first and 3rd with one out and Trot grounds into the inning ending double play….haven’t we stranded like 168 base runners in the last 2 games or is it all the drugs making me hallucinate?

2:31- time out to pee in a jug

2:32- 20 oz that time and I didn’t piss on myself…not bad

2:34- our first look at Andruw Jones….man, this dude used to be skinny, now he looks like a younger version of a constipated Raul Mondesi

2:35- Manny made a jogging catch of an Andruw Jones ball and the announcers make it sound like he’s Willie Mays in the World Series…. I guess that must make up for the robust .229 average

2:36- damn, Clement looks sharp…I think that was a 6-pitch inning

2:39- Big V is now up. He’s 5th in the AL with a .333 average… which just got better with a infield hit…not too shabby for a catcher

2:40- time for some more drugs

2:42- you know what? this hospital thing ain’t so bad

2:43- 1st and 3rd with one out after Bill Mueller’s weekly hit….let’s see how we can fuck this one up

2:44- yup, Bellhorn strikes out….now if Damon can just get out, my evil plan will be complete

2:47- Damon just walked, now the bases are loaded with Renteria up….yeah, I feel confident, don’t you?

2:48- Renteria struck out with quite possibly the most half-hearted swing that I have ever seen….it looked like he was petting a cat and didn’t want to hurt it….throw in that stellar defense (he’s leading all AL shortstops in errors) and we have a keeper with him….only 3 years, 5 months and $35 million to go…can I get a witness?

2:49- I’m going to shoot the tv the next time that I see that leprechaun-Foxwoods ad….you’ll read about it in the paper “Local man shoots TV at hospital, laughs hysterically”

2:54- Clement is cruising along now…9 up, 9 down…..I think that inning was about 10 pitches…maybe there is something to having a set of nuts on your chin, eh Bob?

2:59- Hey! Manny got a hit…..that’s about $500,000 a hit so far this year, not bad work if you can get it

3:03- Big V with another hit…..my nigga….1st and 3rd now

3:06- another shocker, Youk strikes out…what’s that, 189 runners left on base in the last two games?

3:06 and 30 seconds- I can’t take the pain of watching the Red Sox, time to hit that magic button

3:07- what happened to the tv? I can’t seem to find it

3:08- Here are the pitches by inning for Clement thus far…12-6-12…not too shabby, it’s downright Maddux-esque

3:10- Well, that’s it…the game is over. They got a hit. Fuckin’ Furcal…of course, he steals 2nd before I even finished typing that last sentence….jesus, now he’s on 3rd with one out. That was either really fast or the brain is awfully slow right now. Maybe I’m in the Matrix.

3:13- of course, we’ve had 632 base runners so far and can’t score(sounds like my love life), Atlanta gets one and scores within 2 minutes….they may have to up my dose of morphine before this game is over

3:16- Clement just beaned some goofy looking fuck, now it’s 1st and 2nd w/one out and Andruw Jones up, can you say 3-run homer?

3:17- nope, just a base hit….bases loaded and so am I…..good times

3:19- shallow fly ball to the ridiculously girly-armed Damon, 2-0 Atlanta…Cod-Need-Drugs….Fire Bad

3:22- another very nice play by Trot Nixon running to his left and making the catch at the wall…after the play, he was trying to give the ball to a little boy and Trot had to keep moving it around because two little girls were trying to take it away from him…..typical women, they’ll make someone miserable someday………boy, I really went out on a limb with that prediction, huh?

3:24- Mueller with another hit, he has his quota for June now

3:26- Oh my God!! Bellhorn got a hit, its now 1st and 2nd w/nobody out…let’s see what happens next, I predict a pop-up and a double play

3:27- nope, Damon got the double play out of the way, fuck me…..

:30 seconds later (seriously)- Renteria fouls out to 1st on the first pitch…you can’t make this shit up

3:28- Nurse? More drugs! STAT!

3:42- bottom of the 5th, 1st and 2nd with Big V up….c’mon V!! I’ll make you forget your wife’s name if you get a hit here

3:44- damn! Force out at 2nd. Well, it’s your loss Varitek!! Now it’s 1st and 3rd with 2 outs. Lets see if we can blow this one as well. Come on Youk, you can screw it up!

3:47- HO-LEE-SHIT!! A HIT!! AND A RUN!! YOOOOOOOK!! I never doubted you for a minute!

3:49- Good god! Mueller just got another hit!! I think I just saw a pig fly by my window. It’s all gravy for him until September now. The score is now tied up 2-2.

4:04- We’re now leading off the bottom of the 6th and Damon gets yet another hit. That boy has been on fire this year. Too bad he’s going to have to cut his hair and shave when he signs with the Yankees this winter.

4:05- On the 1st pitch Renteria advances him perfectly to 2nd while expertly leaving first base open. Boy, what a play. See what $40 million will buy you?

4:07- Yeah!! Papi drives in Damon with a double to left. You gotta love the big man.

4:08- first pitch…Manny belts it into the bullpen, 5-2 Boston!! Let’s celebrate, shall we? Nurse?

4:15- Julio Franco leads off the 7th by grounding out. I think his wheelchair got a flat on the way to first.

4:18- (Bface) Clement just retired his 11th batter in a row (Bface) by getting his 7th strikeout (Bface) of the game while giving up only 3 hits (Bface).

4:35- Its end of the 8th Bface. 18 in a row retired by Clement (Bface). I smell a complete game, don’t you (Bface)?

4:37- pee break

4:39- no spillage again, 2-2 baby!

4:43- Manny just had his third hit of the game to right. It certainly looks like he’s coming out of it. I sense a patented Manny-stretch of something like 30-64 with 8hr’s and 25 RBI’s coming up in the next few weeks.

4:44- Trot just got a hit to right. He's been hitting the shit out of the ball this year, as well. If it weren't for Damon, Big V, Papi, and Trot...we'd be screwed. Anyways, it's 1st and 2nd with two outs and my man-crush coming up. Let’s celebrate! Hit that magic button, baby!

4:48- Well, no one is perfect. Big V struck out. I’ll still give you a rubdown big fella.

4:52- Clement comes out for the 9th and gives off a leadoff single. That’s it. It’s all over now. We lost. Nurse? Drugs?

4:53- There’s a lazy fly to Creeping Jesus in center….two more outs to go (Bface)

4:57- Youk with a great diving play for out number two (Bface)!! YOUK!!

4:59- Groundout to Bellhorn!! COMPLETE GAME, BABY!! 4 hits, 7 strikeouts and NO WALKS!! Clement is now 5-0. How ‘bout them apples, Bface?!?

I think I’m going to run out and get me a fine set of hairy balls for my chin.


Sunday, May 08, 2005

what a drunk

One night my sisters ex swung by the house to take me out "drinking". Little did I know what would happen next...

Earlier in the evening I had started out at my house by pounding down 8 beers in an hour (which was normal for me at the time) while hanging out with my neighbor. Then Scott (the ex) and his buddy showed up to take me out boozin'.

After some hemming and hawing about whether I really wanted to go out or not, we decided to go grab some chinese food with my neighbor and the wife.

You all know that while having chinese food you just HAVE to drink some scorpion bowls while you're there. After I had my NH state mandated limit of 2 scorpion bowls plus a zombie to boot, Scott mentioned that we should go out drinking.

Hell, after my 8 beers and a gallon of booze, I was ready to go!

We ended up in downtown Portsmouth and decided to start out at this place called The Portsmouth Gaslight. We just had to go there because it had a shuffleboard table downstairs and Scott was the ultimate frat boy. When we walked in we noticed that the place was packed! I said that we should move on, but Scott was convinced that we could procure a table.

After wandering around for a while, we ended up downstairs where it was even more crowded than before. Once again, I said that we should hit another joint, but Scott was determined.

He scanned the room for about 30 seconds and then fixated on a group of older ladies at a primo table. He said that we could take it from them. I said no way, but off he went anyways.

After watching Scott talk to some old bag for a few seconds, they all waved us over. Come to find out, they were celebrating one of the saggy chicks getting married to some (obviously blind) dude.

Not only did they give us their table, they bought us several rounds of drinks and gave us their dinners that they had already ordered!

More Tomorrow........

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