On The 7th Day he rested...

Cause he was just a wee bit hungover!

"Oh my god, is that the sun?" the befuddled young man inquired.

"Yep," came the reply.

"What's it doing up so early?"

"It's five in the morning! Bar's closed. Go home." offered the surly bouncer at that country music dive in Uptown that everyone loves so much.

Five in the morning? Five O'clock in the Morning. The sun was coming up. I had to go home and get some sleep. Who knew that the Pub Crawl would last until Five Frickin O'Clock in the Frickin Morning? We had started around nine or ten. When had I lost all concept of time? Why hadn't I gone home between the last two bars?

Well, because I had paced myself pretty good. Only having a drink or a couple of drinks at each stop along the way. I definitely wasn't as Rip-Roaring Drunk as I could've been. I was calm. Relaxed. Just enjoying the night. Hanging with some friends. {My two friends are getting married in a few weeks back in Cape Cod and instead of a Bachelor/Bachelorette party they decided to have a Pub Crawl with a bunch of friends.} Just Chillin.

Then we go to our last stop, the country dive, and everything goes down the pisser. More Cheap beer. Honky Tonk Bands. Cowboy Boots, and drunken 'idjits' trying to two-step while I aim to start a mosh pit! We closed the sucker down! We all filed into the street, the remnants of the party, and said good bye in the coming sunlight. I hopped a cab home, and crept, not so silently, to bed. Then I slept the sleep of the recently deceased. And I slept and slept and slept. Until I could sleep no more, but I did. I awoke with half of my Sunday past. Feeling nowhere near as refreshed as I should have, and I putzed through the rest of my day with the energy of a seventy year old man recovering from a triple by pass.

So three cheers for the happy couple. I hope everyone had just as much fun as I did, and I hope everyone made it home safely, except for you Mr. Moriarty. Sorry to hear about your spill. Get well soon.