Weapons Galore And Cake to the Face

Sometimes the weekend is just so overflowing with good times to the point where it cannot be contained in one post; this was one of those weekends. Saturday I spent part of the day cleaning up shrapnel off the bathroom rug that was the result of too many raspberry kamikazes mixed with patron shots. Afterwards I went to see Ironman. On further reflection, I think the experience would’ve been enhanced if I had dressed up in tin foil and ran into the theatre screaming “I AM IRON MAAAAN!!!” I enjoyed the movie, despite my lack of tin foil (possibly because my flask did indeed come along), and I went to see it with Legos, who jismed in his pants no less than 9 times because as an engineer for Lockheed, all the tinkering got him hot and bothered.

Sunday was a weaponriffic day for me! I started off by shooting guns, partially as a late tribute to Charlton Heston. I will preface the story by saying I DID NOT DRINK ANY BOOZE OF ANY TYPE BEFORE OR DURING MY GUN RANGE EXCURSION. Granted, I do like to include liquor in many of my activities, but playing with guns seemed like an activity best done sober; it’s just a hunch. Anyway, I totally dug shooting guns, not only because the smell of gun powder is a turn on, but I got to shoot a range of guns—two Rugers, a Glock, and a fun zombie killing rifle (with infrared sight for killing far away zombies, not just close by zombies… which is good because the closer the get, the more likely they are to eat your brain). After that, I met up with the St Paul Drinking Team to celebrate Nick and Dorf’s birthday. Awesomely enough, there was a piñata we hit with a hurling stick that was full of candy, little plastic bottles of booze (mostly schnapps, gin, and rum), pencils, the tape dispenser and Nick’s remote and USB plug for his ipod.
We dumped all of the booze in a punch bowl, added strawberry kiwi soda, and made shots out of it. Afterwards, we went to The Dubliner, where we met up with a bunch of other people and The Wild Colonial Bhoys were playing. Fortunately, because The St. Paul Drinking team knows the staff, they were ok with us bringing a cake to the bar. Of course it led to the inevitable cake smashing to the face. Oh, it’s definitely for the best that everyone tips well!