Very very short version of Monday (everything I can possibly remember).

Any names and places told of in this event have been changed.

Not to protect the innocent, I could give a fuck about them.

I just don't remember jack shit about this.

At approximately 5:00 pm, I arrived home. At once, the attack began. Surrounded by these barbarians as I was, I had little defense. They had organized, and dragged me from my vehicle.

As they hoisted me aloft and triumphantly marched back into the house, I managed to grab someone’s beer, making my journey somewhat more tolerable.

Once inside, the extent of the alcoholism taking place was made clear.

I immediately joined in the fray.

First on the agenda was two-ball.

Born of drunken stupor, it is best played in the state of excessive inebriation which we had achieved only moments  before.

Upon the conclusion of this tournament, it was time to go to the Instant Replay for yet more irresponsible consumption.

Thoughtfully, we included the giant stuffed dog in our plans for merry-making.

Upon the entrance of our unruly lot, the owners of the establishment were at once displeased.

We were asked to leave.

We were TOLD to leave.

Which we did, if but for a brief moment…

We were FORCED to leave.

This time it was final, as we made our way back to the house, on foot, whooping and hollering into the night.

Having arrived at the conclusion that it was, after all, the stuffed dog that had impeded our previous intentions at the drinking establishment, we sacrificed him in bloody retribution.

Now that most of the living room lay not only in shambles, but now also coated with a thick layer of styrofoam stuffing, it was deemed necessary to clean.

This was best accomplished by emptying 2 gallons of laundry detergent onto the living floor.

Much fun was had as our downstairs became an indoor slip-and-slide, complete with it’s own “splash-mountain” (aka the kitchen).

We broke some poor girls, and then I woke up the next day...