whoa sick!

Story:

Last night, as promised, we got drunk.

Afterwards, when walking home, Dan and I decided it would be funny to hug these two girls walking the streets. Little did we know they were both meth-heads and wanted more than just a hug.

My wallet!

As we embraced, all I could feel was the girl raiding my pockets looking for loot! I immediately ejected from the hug and ran away screaming. I woke up this morning hoping it was all a dream. I felt oh, so so violated.

I'll use the classic Ryerson excuse for all of this:

"It was dark, and I was drunk."

signal hill

I'd been here many years ago.
Usually when you see distant places as a child, the memories you keep seem to either sour or sweeten over time. When you're a kid, you're never really interested in towns foreign to you. All you really care about is what you are missing back home. The sleep-overs, the game releases, shit like that. This is the same reason I'll never take my youngsters on vacations to Europe until they reach the age of appreciation (I say that now).

Until only weeks ago, memories began to flood back about this town.

I remembered more than most towns. Smells, streets, directions, and the severe steepness of the hills. I really didn't know what to expect upon rolling into the downtown core, but the sights sure haven't changed much over the years. It's still beautiful.

We immediately headed for Signal Hill upon arriving into St. Johns. My uncle was married on this hill many years ago, and I remember it like it were yesterday. Such an incredible sight. On the left you see a structure that resembles a medieval Scottish castle, subdued by the ocean pouring into the city. On the right you'll see the beautiful harbor and all the bustle that is the St. Johns interior. Kind of like Vancouver, except cheaper with less pretentious assholes.

The only real point to this entry is to say that St. Johns, Newfoundland is a wonderful place. We're here now, hosteling (Dan and I are owning here), and enjoying a shitty bottle of XOXO wine. We're about to walk the town like dirty sailors and hopefully get Screeched (look it up if unsure). We'll be here for a few days, so I trust you'll all be flying out to party.

it all depends

Alright, another one of those quick entries because I had to pay ten Euros to use the internet just to look up a few addresses, so enjoy it because I could have bought like eight beers with ten Euros.

The other night we thought we'd hit up some local polka party time. This was also another one of those infamous "all you can drink" evenings. The dinner starts out with Schnapps for everyone, except nobody at my table liked that shit because you could remove nail polish with it. Therefore, my inner Irish pushed me to drink everything in sight. The worst part of this was that I forgot about the notorious Polish hospitality, and those shots never stopped coming. An empty glass meant a refill apparently, amongst all other alcoholic beverages. I'm sure you have a hangover just from reading this.

There was a lot of traditional songs and dancing throughout the night, most of which I don't remember because I was drunkenly laughing hard at pretty much anything. But it's vacation, right?

Notice the amount of (empty) shot glasses surrounding my bowl of soup. I also threw down a couple glasses of red wine and several bottles of Zwyiec. After the meal, everything became a bit hazy. Now, I've never seriously lost control of myself when drinking (except for those two times), so I had a good understanding of what was going on. It was time to fucking polka! I should also mention that I never drink hard alcohol because I think it's the devils delicious juice and I can't pace myself.

The band was cookin' and the circle began to take formation. I didn't know dick about the polka at the time but I was totally ready for what was to come. We danced in a circle to some fairly hype polka music and this cute Polish girl laid down a towel in front of me. Apparently this meant we both have to kneel on it and kiss cheecks a few times, to which the towel gets passed to me and then I get to choose who gets smooched next. Now, don't get me wrong, I had my pick of the litter. There were good looking girls in this circle, but what happened next is a classic move from the Book of Andy. Are you ready?

Whoooaaa shit!

I totally macked up that old broad.
To be honest, I can't stop laughing when I look at that photo.
Oh those cheecks. They were so damn smooth.
I really don't have anything else to say about that. You can draw your own conclusions. If I was really funny I would create an alternate ending to that story that would end in some Depends joke, but I'm not that funny and only have 15 minutes left of my Hilton Vienna account.

There's no real end to this story. We went back to the hotel and drank some more with Bernie and Mike in the lobby. I woke up with a hangover and an old broad in my bed.

Like I said, I'm not that funny.