Drinko de Mayo

Yesterday Rockstar, Spags, and I headed out to the Astoria Beer Garden to celebrate a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

The beer garden is one of my favorite places to drink, especially during the day. Everyone's smiling and spreading good cheer while enjoying a pitcher of their favorite Czech beer. I'm a poet!

We were there from 2pm to about 7pm. We probably would have stayed longer if the vibe hadn't changed. There were a bunch of peeps in their mid-20s who seemed like first timers. To be honest, they were kind of bratty and a little snottish. I was all for sharing our picinic table, but when you know you'll have 8 to 10 people coming then you should go early to get your own space. There was also a weird amount of blah chicks there, too. I've never seen the bathroom lines that long!

God I feel like a dud complaining about it, but what the fuck? The beer garden is the Hofbrauhaus of NYC...show some respect to your fellow drinkers! Hopefully the crowd will be back to it's old self come August. Only true believers drink in 90 degree heat.

After the beer garden we went out for mexican food in my neighborhood. The food and service was pretty shitty (sorry guys!), but we really wanted margaritas. Big mistake! Within minutes I felt sick. Between the Hoegaarden, kielbasa, portobella mushroom and fries at the beer garden to the strawberry margarita, chips and guacamole at Margaritaville, my tummy was not happy.

By the time our food came out I couldn't even eat, nor could anyone else. Trust me, we are all eaters so this was a first. Rockstar and Spags headed back to the city with doggie bags while I headed to my couch to take a quick nap. I still had plans that night!

My friend Bucket has a Cinco de Mayo party at his apartment every year. Lucky for me he lives right around the corner. If he didn't I probably wouldn't have gone after the day I had.

Around 11pm my friend Chewie called and woke my ass up. My stomach felt better, but I decided I wouldn't drink at the party to be safe. Yeah right. I had a few Coronas, some more margaritas, a cigar, and plenty of chips and guac again. The margaritas tasted like the soda jungle juice I drank at Little League games topped off with about 4 different liquors and beer. Gross, but fine for a party.

I got home about 3am all ready to sleep it off when my body gave out. It felt like a Sumo wrestling match was taking place in my stomach and the Rock of Gibraltar was up my ass. The only position I felt semi-comfortable in was on my knees (heh heh) with my head down and ass in the air. Moaning helped, too.

I had to make myself puke to feel better. All I kept thinking was "Beer before liquor, never sicker." and cursed myself for not remembering it earlier in the night. UGH.

That's twice in a week that I drank to excess and threw up. I know this is all very disgusting to read, but I feel the need to post about it. Not sure what writing about it will do for me. Maybe it just makes it real.

So there you have it, my 12 hour Cinco de Mayo drinkup. Here's some festivish movie trivia:

Girl: "Where are you taking us?"
Man: "Mexico."
Girl: "What's in Mexico?"
Man: "Mexicans."

Name it and I'll give you a Dirty Sanchez. Fa!