Photo Album Flashbacks - vol. 3
Alternate Title: Why Married Guys Should Avoid, At All Cost, the Annual Octoberfest Party at the Harpoon Brewery in Boston
Alternate Alternate Title: You Can't Spell "Harpoon" Without..
[Hey, watch it, man. This is a family place! -ed.]
October 1994 (um...I think)
For the record, regarding that blonde on my left:
1. We definitely did not drive her convertible BMW downtown after drinking as much as we did, I mean, didn't, at the brewery that afternoon/evening/night.
2. After not doing that, we most certainly were not emphatically refused entrance to Clarke's, due to the inebriated state in which we were not.
3. Following those non-occurrences, we most certainly did not, um, "forget to remember" where we "parked" her Beamer, which we certainly didn't think had been stolen that night/morning.
4. I'd tell you more about what didn't happen that night, but I certainly don't not remember forgetting any more of the details, or lack thereof.
Besides, it's not like I was a total drunk back in the old days, to which this picture of me pouring myself out of Amigo's in Portland, Maine (January, 19...um...I have no friggin' clue) will surely attest.
This review of Amigo's pretty much sums it up:
That's putting a gentle spin on things.
Alternate Alternate Title: You Can't Spell "Harpoon" Without..
[Hey, watch it, man. This is a family place! -ed.]
October 1994 (um...I think)
For the record, regarding that blonde on my left:
1. We definitely did not drive her convertible BMW downtown after drinking as much as we did, I mean, didn't, at the brewery that afternoon/evening/night.
2. After not doing that, we most certainly were not emphatically refused entrance to Clarke's, due to the inebriated state in which we were not.
3. Following those non-occurrences, we most certainly did not, um, "forget to remember" where we "parked" her Beamer, which we certainly didn't think had been stolen that night/morning.
4. I'd tell you more about what didn't happen that night, but I certainly don't not remember forgetting any more of the details, or lack thereof.
Besides, it's not like I was a total drunk back in the old days, to which this picture of me pouring myself out of Amigo's in Portland, Maine (January, 19...um...I have no friggin' clue) will surely attest.
This review of Amigo's pretty much sums it up:
Just off the cobblestones of Dana St., the door to Amigos opens into a less-than-upscale bar...
That's putting a gentle spin on things.
