And now, on to the REAL reason people run the Shamrock. Beer -though I have heard on multiple occasions that spandex pants are also a motivator. My husband and I got through the beer lines ahead of the crowd and cuz he doesn’t like beer, I got two, but was annoyed to discover that one of them was completely nasty tasting. So I hid it, planning to tell Mike where it was, when I saw him, cuz he is such a beer whore. The other beer was great and soon I was warming up!
Mike texted me and we met him Dan and Nick, over by the clothing check-in, where I got introduced to Mike’s sexy green toenails! (I think he even shaved his toe hair for this occasion!)
We then walked over to the beer line, again, cuz they had not picked up their beers yet. “Somehow” Mike had managed to confiscate extra bibs from people, so he could get extra beers. I chuckled to myself wondering who he had done lap dances for to get those!
Once everyone had a beer in each hand, and after about ten minutes of drinking their beers (next time I’m bringing straws), the guys FINALLY started getting as weird as I am, sober! Dan got that “wild” look in his eye, Mike (a.k.a. Oscar the Grouch) actually got un-grouched, Nick actually HUGGED people, and my Cancer husband actually kept his crab claw on stun the ENTIRE time! The craziness went on for about thirty minutes, culminating in Dan and I doing a jig and linking arms while skipping in a circle at warp-speed. Imagine something akin to Balki’s “jig-of-joy” meets the senior center’s square dancing club. Nervous bystanders cleared out a radius around us, since drunken dancing can be dangerous –especially when we let go of each other to change directions. I was surprised that even after 3.5 beers, and being spun around like a top, I still didn’t fall over –a tribute to the strength of my abductors! Although, I did kick a half a cup of beer over.
We finally decided we were all going to freeze to death and needed to eat. Dan had to go home, David was going to get our car, and Nick, Mike and I, started walking through downtown Portland to a restaurant. Or were we walking? Rather aimlessly wandering…arm in arm, arm on butt, arms flailing. I learned that drunk people are not very efficient at helping other drunk people cross the street. Between the three of us, and our single, shared, sober brain cell, we somehow managed to avoid getting hit by the max, random drivers, and trampled by other drunk people.
What we did NOT avoid, to our dismay, was Mike speaking to strangers! We passed by a rather large group of young ladies in super tight pants and he felt it necessary to say hi to them and inform them that we were drunk –because I’m sure that they were oblivious. Likewise, I felt it necessary to warn them that Mike was checking out their butts. I turned around at this point to see Nick slinking along at least a block behind us –staring at us, more or less, in horror. Nick has a hard time admitting to the world that he is also a weirdo –he would just rather keep it a secret. How silly! He agrees that it’s just a matter of time before his wife bans him from hanging out with the BFCs (barefoot corruptors).
We finally got to where Mike’s car was parked and were waiting there for David, when Mike made the mistake of commenting that I looked like I had lost weight. Still totally wasted, and being the attention whore that I am, this comment provoked me to rip off two of my three shirts and twirl them over Nick’s head like a stripper, then announce how glad I was that at least my boobs were done losing weight, and finally, bend over in front of Mike and ask him to assess the hotness of my ass. I couldn’t see what was going on behind me –and I’m sure that was a very good thing- but I saw Nick cover his eyes, probably wishing he were wearing red, glittery shoes that could save him with just a click of the heels. Instead, he was saved by a couple of cute chicks walking toward us, holding on to a dog that had a Mohawk all the way down his back (of course, it IS Portland after all). They were probably as wasted as we were and we all just started chatting, and next thing I knew, I look over and see Mike inspecting one of the chick’s spandex covered thigh muscles –with his hand. WIN!
It turned out these two chicks, Penny and Christina, had planned on running the Shamrock race that morning, until they got mugged in their car. They were both pretty buff chicks and the mugger did not have a weapon on him, so I was surprised they didn’t just kick him in the balls and be done with it. Not only that, they both had a hangover and Penny was still in throw-up mode at that time, so I’m surprised she just didn’t vomit on the dude. The mugger got off with all of their money and debit/credit cards and they missed the race. Since we were just about to go to lunch, and Mike was hoping to get some…uh, I mean, is such a nice guy, he invited them to lunch -on him– though I’m sure under him would have worked as well. Right about then, David joined us, and we began our unnecessarily long, safari trek, deep into the bad parts of town, courtesy of our highly distracted leader, Mike.
Just for some background, Nick and I totally think that Mike needs to get out more and meet some real live women. Being so busy surfing the Internet and commenting on the Barefoot Runner’s Society site, Mike’s extent of female interaction has come down to staring at hot women on the news and “friending” them on Facebook. I’m sure it is WAY MORE than a little exciting for Mike, when they accept his friend request, and I am SO glad I don’t have to witness that explosive moment! So, needless to say, Nick and I smiled coyly at one another as we watched Mike attempt to flirt. However, Mike’s opening lines to the ladies tend to be a bit…odd. “Hi, my name is Mike, and I’d like to personally deliver a package to you –it’s about 2 inches long and 1 inch wide- so it should fit into your mailbox nicely, with lots and lots of room to spare.” Perhaps it is best that Mike keeps watching the news, alone.
We finally got to the restaurant after Nick almost peed his pants, and after I DID pee my pants, because Nick made me laugh too hard. The girls entertained us with their stories, while Mike drooled. I didn’t realize how insanely hungry I was until the food came. And Mike was apparently far hungrier than I, cuz he ate Nick’s (green) pickle, without asking…BWAHAHAHHAAA!!!
THE END
Mike texted me and we met him Dan and Nick, over by the clothing check-in, where I got introduced to Mike’s sexy green toenails! (I think he even shaved his toe hair for this occasion!)
We then walked over to the beer line, again, cuz they had not picked up their beers yet. “Somehow” Mike had managed to confiscate extra bibs from people, so he could get extra beers. I chuckled to myself wondering who he had done lap dances for to get those! Once everyone had a beer in each hand, and after about ten minutes of drinking their beers (next time I’m bringing straws), the guys FINALLY started getting as weird as I am, sober! Dan got that “wild” look in his eye, Mike (a.k.a. Oscar the Grouch) actually got un-grouched, Nick actually HUGGED people, and my Cancer husband actually kept his crab claw on stun the ENTIRE time! The craziness went on for about thirty minutes, culminating in Dan and I doing a jig and linking arms while skipping in a circle at warp-speed. Imagine something akin to Balki’s “jig-of-joy” meets the senior center’s square dancing club.
Nervous bystanders cleared out a radius around us, since drunken dancing can be dangerous –especially when we let go of each other to change directions. I was surprised that even after 3.5 beers, and being spun around like a top, I still didn’t fall over –a tribute to the strength of my abductors! Although, I did kick a half a cup of beer over. We finally decided we were all going to freeze to death and needed to eat. Dan had to go home, David was going to get our car, and Nick, Mike and I, started walking through downtown Portland to a restaurant. Or were we walking? Rather aimlessly wandering…arm in arm, arm on butt, arms flailing. I learned that drunk people are not very efficient at helping other drunk people cross the street. Between the three of us, and our single, shared, sober brain cell, we somehow managed to avoid getting hit by the max, random drivers, and trampled by other drunk people.
What we did NOT avoid, to our dismay, was Mike speaking to strangers!
We passed by a rather large group of young ladies in super tight pants and he felt it necessary to say hi to them and inform them that we were drunk –because I’m sure that they were oblivious. Likewise, I felt it necessary to warn them that Mike was checking out their butts. I turned around at this point to see Nick slinking along at least a block behind us –staring at us, more or less, in horror. Nick has a hard time admitting to the world that he is also a weirdo –he would just rather keep it a secret. How silly! He agrees that it’s just a matter of time before his wife bans him from hanging out with the BFCs (barefoot corruptors). We finally got to where Mike’s car was parked and were waiting there for David, when Mike made the mistake of commenting that I looked like I had lost weight. Still totally wasted, and being the attention whore that I am, this comment provoked me to rip off two of my three shirts and twirl them over Nick’s head like a stripper, then announce how glad I was that at least my boobs were done losing weight, and finally, bend over in front of Mike and ask him to assess the hotness of my ass.
I couldn’t see what was going on behind me –and I’m sure that was a very good thing- but I saw Nick cover his eyes, probably wishing he were wearing red, glittery shoes that could save him with just a click of the heels. Instead, he was saved by a couple of cute chicks walking toward us, holding on to a dog that had a Mohawk all the way down his back (of course, it IS Portland after all). They were probably as wasted as we were and we all just started chatting, and next thing I knew, I look over and see Mike inspecting one of the chick’s spandex covered thigh muscles –with his hand. WIN! It turned out these two chicks, Penny and Christina, had planned on running the Shamrock race that morning, until they got mugged in their car. They were both pretty buff chicks and the mugger did not have a weapon on him, so I was surprised they didn’t just kick him in the balls and be done with it. Not only that, they both had a hangover and Penny was still in throw-up mode at that time, so I’m surprised she just didn’t vomit on the dude. The mugger got off with all of their money and debit/credit cards and they missed the race. Since we were just about to go to lunch, and Mike was hoping to get some…uh, I mean, is such a nice guy, he invited them to lunch -on him– though I’m sure under him would have worked as well. Right about then, David joined us, and we began our unnecessarily long, safari trek, deep into the bad parts of town, courtesy of our highly distracted leader, Mike.
Just for some background, Nick and I totally think that Mike needs to get out more and meet some real live women. Being so busy surfing the Internet and commenting on the Barefoot Runner’s Society site, Mike’s extent of female interaction has come down to staring at hot women on the news and “friending” them on Facebook. I’m sure it is WAY MORE than a little exciting for Mike, when they accept his friend request, and I am SO glad I don’t have to witness that explosive moment!
So, needless to say, Nick and I smiled coyly at one another as we watched Mike attempt to flirt. However, Mike’s opening lines to the ladies tend to be a bit…odd. “Hi, my name is Mike, and I’d like to personally deliver a package to you –it’s about 2 inches long and 1 inch wide- so it should fit into your mailbox nicely, with lots and lots of room to spare.” Perhaps it is best that Mike keeps watching the news, alone. We finally got to the restaurant after Nick almost peed his pants, and after I DID pee my pants, because Nick made me laugh too hard. The girls entertained us with their stories, while Mike drooled. I didn’t realize how insanely hungry I was until the food came. And Mike was apparently far hungrier than I, cuz he ate Nick’s (green) pickle, without asking…BWAHAHAHHAAA!!!
THE END
