Poon Job's Palace

Thats right bitches...I said it. I'd put this post in green font, but I don't care to make the effort. Since recovering from my sickness a while back I was out of the game. And by game I am referring to binge drinking my liver away. So as of late I have returned to the big leagues and am finding myself rejuvinated.
No amount of liquor has been enough for Kav version 2, and it is this fact that has led me to being much more critical of my drinking endeavors.
As I said a few weeks ago I already celebrated St. Patrick's Day and I must say that I had a fan-fucking-tastic time. The Carbombs flowed freely as did the urine from my numerous episodes of public urination.
I had built up St. Patrick's Day ever since then. I mean the real day had to be better than the preliminary. Wrong!!
Don't get shit twisted. I drank excessively...from noon on, but something seemed off. It seemed more forced than it should have been. From leaving my desk on break I rushed myself to the bar and started throwing some shots back, only to return to my desk cause my partners in drunken debauchery were, to sum it up in one word, pussies.
Anyways...after heading back to my place for all of 20 minutes I got a call and I was off to another pub.
3 hours passed by and they seemed to take forever...the place was dead, and this only added to my frustration. I pretty much only enjoyed myself in the last hour I was there. This is probably thanks to me picking up the pace.
So anyways...I left the pub early as I had a lot of shit to do on Friday and I intend on being out again at night. At this point in time consecutive nights of alcohol toxicity is quite a stretch...my stamina is not what it used to be. One big Mcfucking disappointment.

Additionally: I don't need an Irish holdiay as an excuse to drink...and if you do need this as a reason I must say Fuck you and eat a dick.