Welcome to this Shit Storm of a Mess

So yeah, this is my blog.  It's going to be about sports, drinking, doing dumb shit while drinking, and lots of random shit (think analogies comparing Dazed and Confused,  Zoobilee Zoo, and just about everything in between to how terrible of a city D.C. is, or how much of a douche nugget Chris Bosh is ... shit like that).  So yeah, that's what we're doing here.  If you like it, great.  If not, go have a glass of zinfandel and wax your legs or something.

Let me start by explaining the background.  Yeah, Pap is kind of on his way out, obviously.  He was a flame thrower who danced around like a drunk muppet, and now he cashes in runs like he's getting paid by how many runs he can throw on a middle relievers ERA.  But whatever, he was the man.  And don't even try to tell me that a few years back, when the Drop Kicks started blasting at Fenway, and you were piss-on-a-church drunk, that you didn't get fired up and want do back-flips around the standing-room-only post that you camped out in with a backpack pull of nips at 5:35.  You did.  And that's why he's the background (for now).  Pap, goggles on, pouring a Bud Light over the AL championship trophy is Boston sports.  And so is this blog.  Drunk, winning, and irreverent.  So yeah, that's that.

And don't get on me for spelling shit wrong, or using "me" when I should use "I."  I don't give a shit.  I can't spell, that's what Spell Check is for.  What is this, 1975?  And I'm probably half pint of Wild Turkey deep for most of these posts anyway, so go fuck yourself.  Welcome to Drinking Past the 7th.

I figured I should throw in a photo or something.  So here I am, about a pint of Absolute deep in.  Enjoy.