The sad tale of the only child Kronk

This is the tale (what I remember, have seen on Facebook, and have collected from friends), of my 28th Birthday on the 17th day of March.

I have finally gained the courage to revisit this foul day and hope that next year fares even better.
I woke up fairly early that morning, early enough to drive down to Winchester Motorsports in Clearbrook, VA. I did some haggling and managed to secure a motorcycle. The owner Carl asked me if I wanted to pick it up later that day; little did he know that I wouldn't have remember what a motorcycle was at that point in time. So I headed back to Shepherdstown, a little late on the schedule, to meet up with the group of people undoubtably gathering at my house.

By the time I got there, Goose, Kingsburry, and Droo were alreay in the basement. This first non-surprise of the day was Goose playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. He seems to have an unsatiable craving for that game and cannot help but get his grubby little hands all over it the moment he sets foot in the basement. I've seen hardcore herocracocaine addicts that pale in comparison to him. Moments later we got the status update from the war room, 212 and Janal were on their way back to the DMV to get 212's ID which he neglected to do the whole month prior to my birthday. Francesconi was on her way and The Tender would be waiting for us across the bridge.

So fast forward to about 1:00 (we had planned on leaving at about 11:00) and we finally left the house and were on our way, one pitstop at Sheetz and one pitstop at Bender's to pick up The Tender and we were finally headed to Hagerstown.

1:30 - Arrive at the Broadaxe, start drinking. One, maybe two carbombs and possibly two shots of turk, and maybe a beer or two.

??? - Arrive at Bennies. Drink more. Order 6 rocks glass sampler of the strongest imports on tap. At that point Droo turns around and says that I should really just chug all 6 of those down. I was one step ahead of him. He turns back around and they're gone.

??? - Barefoot Bernies. I was drinking with a friend who is an undercover migrant worker and I ended up playing to stupidest game of quarters in the world. I think the guy sitting next to me was gay. I got creeped out and went to drink more with my friends.

5:30 - The Corner Pub. I don't remember what I drank there, or anything after we left.

??? - Photo of The Tender's ass as she's climbing into some random convertible. I don't remember this.

7:30 - Wake up at the house. It was not AM like I originally thought. Got a phone call, got a shower, got dressed, got the Maker's Mark bottle that looked like a rooster and headed to Anna and Dana's.

??? - Chef Butts' abode. A little anecdote from the Chef: So I asked him if we could take a shot of Maker's and he pulled out two shot glasses. I then asked him if he had anything to chase it with and he said no. He then said I went into his fridge, retreived the milk, and poured a glass. He then happened to mention that I tipped the bottle back and chugged for a good six seconds, then chased it with tasty milke.

??? - Twon's. I asked Butts later that week if I drank anything there. I remember brief flashes but that's about it. I figured I hadn't drank anything since I was apparently already tanked. Butts happened to remark that we did nothing but take shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, for the rest of the night. Thanks Butts

I then saw a friend the next week who said he drove me home. After trying to get into the wrong house, I found the right one and then 212 said I was playing human pinball bouncing from wall to wall on my way in.

So as of now, that's my recollection of St. Patrick's Day.

Names and job titles were changed to protect the innocent.