My Own God Damn St. Paddy's Day Thizning

by Jason "Meat" Donlin

Well, I'm gonna write my own god-damn St. Paddy's day thizning. It all started around 2, when Jerry "Vietnam" Donlin, myself, and Zach "THO" Seliga hopped in the Dakota of Love, and went to Mike's Tavern on Harry L. Drive in good old JC. We were greeted by the ever-popular bartender Mark "Whiskey Dick" Wheldon, and Dan "I Have A Beer At A High Skool Hockey Game" Kelech. I started off the day in typica Irish, and/or Jason "Meat" Donlin fashion by ordering up 3 shots of Jeremiah Weed-some strong ass, wank ass, disgusting Whiskey. I then proceed to put my favorite cd (Dropkick Murphys: "Sing Loud, Sing Proud!") into the CD player, and I immediately start rocking out, pumping my fists, moshing, and singing like a jerk. Then, it happened, my dad, Jerry "1968: Que Sahn" Donlin walks in, and orders up a beer. Thanks pop, good times. Me and Jerry proceed to get our respective asses completely kicked in pool...and he heads out, to go to dinner with Elaine "Meat's Mama" Donlin.. Jarrod "Monday Night Hockey All Star" Koch shows up, and we finish out our evening at Mike's. On to the mecca, the Graceland, the high-water mark, the frickin' icing on the cake, the greatest beer joint in all of Bingo...MJ's. I order up some Guiness, and my ham & cabbage meal, and proceed to say hello to all my chums MJ's...including Matt "Bog in the Valley" Jablonowski, Uncle Lanny, and countless other drunken fellas. So my food comes out, my God is it good...I would have taken seconds but that would take up precious beer room in my tank. Bill "So Will You Make Out With Me?" Banovic shows up, and the party really gets going. By now things are getting pretty fuzzy, but I'll push on. We drink, drink, drink, drunk ourselves into a stupor, and then someone, some wise, wise man, suggests we hit up Icehouse...so we BOUNCE. Now, we get to Icehouse, feeling good, ready to go, time to fly. I order up a few cheap beers, and then the music is pumping. Now all you people of Boston, you know damn well when the music starts pumping, you're gonna shake your rump, no matter how much dignity you have. So I proceed to do the butt-grind-Jig on every girl in sight and I didn't even get slapped. A fine young woman was handing out "Kiss Me I'm Irish" stickers, which worked like a charm....this sticker obviously made girls oversee my fat, sweaty, drunken, ugly self, but that's another story. All in all, Icehouse was a whOOpin' good time. Back to MJ's we go! I get my water, all the other retards buy more beer, and I CHILL. End Story, End Rant.

-Jason "Damn Do I Get A Lot Of Quotes" Donlin