11:27 p.m. on 2002-02-25
How I slept through my own Burglary

Here's a random breakdown of just how my WACCCCCKKKY Friday went. I'll do this in hour-to-hour-minute-by-minute format, so to suggest that this is an episode of Unsolved Mysteries.

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THE BIG SLEEP or WHY YOU SHOULD ACTUALLY FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS ON THE BACK OF A BENADRYL BOX!

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FRIDAY, 2:30pm

I awake and go to the bathroom, unaware of the terror that will strike me in a few short hours. I floss. Unwaxed floss. Damn, it cleans well.

4:00pm

I contemplate the greater mysteries in life. One keeps bugging me: Do I attend work tonight?

11:15pm

Mystery solved! No! The Kilarney Rose bar needs me. I owe it to my Irish.

12:35am-SATURDAY!!!

I arrive at the Kilarney. Gene, the bartender, says hi Ryan. I haven't seen him in 6 months. He remembers my last time...memorable.

12:45am

Wild Turkey meets Bass Ale

1:00am

Gobble Gobble limey bastard!!!

2:00am

Some old co-workers filter in. I say hi. More booze.

3:00am

I announce my intention to join the IRA (Irish Republican Army) but somehow, keep saying, "I'm going inta the IRS! Watch out!" Several patrons squirm, uncomfortably. Probably tax evaders. I'll be watching, they can excpect an audit!

4:00am

This is where it gets foggy. Somehow, I end up at the outskirts of the Holland Tunnel, screaming drunk at passing cars, "get me to lemon lane!!!" One nice dude stopped and asked where I was going and I told him I was going to see the gliterkittie in Reading! He thought better of it and drove off.

5:00am

I am on the N train in astoria Queens...I no longer have my knapsack. I feel like crap. I begin to plead with God: "I will never touch the drink again! (sidenote: I never said WHICH drink I'd swear off, so I pick prune juice.)

6:00am

I finally get back to Brooklyn. I stumble off the train and home to bed. I pass out.

LATER THAT WEEK...

Monday, 7pm

I call Kilarney Rose and confirm that I indeed did NOT leave my bag there. I'm stumped.

7:30pm

I look at the pants I was wearing that night. There are calculated cuts on each pocket! Sliced open. Also, a Benadryl capsule package left over. I deduce: I drank, stumbled, got on train, took capsule, slept, and some thugs had the easiest case of petty theft known yet!!!

9:00pm

I save the pants, knowing very well that if Whitesnake ever reunites, these will be the pants I wear to the concert.

Diary of a retard, in a nutshell

in the slammer - up for parole