I am a bad designated driver

Not because I am incapable of not drinking, but rather because I get surly. Now, now - don't give me that look. I know that you know that I get surly. Don't give me any lip. Alls I'm saying is that if I had been left to mine own devices to get shit-faced today in honor of the Sunday before Saint Patrick's Day, this post would have been much more entertaining and likely much longer. As it is, I had a rough day of dealing with drunk people, and don't really feel like sitting in front of someone else's computer at someone else's house and pounding out a lengthy, clever post. Garvey's theory that the ides would produce hilarious drunken blogging did not work on me. Instead, you get terse, surly blogging. This much I know: I'm getting cranked on Tuesday. I hope.

The parade was not fun, as parades usually aren't (if you're over six). I yelled at Don Paul, I booed Chuck Schumer. It wasn't a total loss.

The line for the pisser at Founding Fathers was longer than the line for a beer.

Jackdaw rules, but I'd rather be drunk, so that my old man ears don't ring.

This was the second consecutive year that I paid the cover, then drank beer out of the band's cooler all day. Last year was better - I drank much more free beer. All in all, not bad. But I'm still getting rotten on Tuesday. You wait here.