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Labor Day Passout

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Happy Labor Day! I’m not sure what Labor Day is about or what the proper words are to express the honor, which is displayed in the form of joy that we all share in not working on Monday, (except those working on construction projects and the majority of those in retail sales).


Is Labor Day synonymous with drinking? I have several friends that would tell me yes, but then again they’d say that drinking is synonymous with the sun coming up. So what’s that tell you?


This weekend I hung out with some of those old friends of mine. When I say old friends, I mean the kind that are so old that when you’re together you do nothing more than remind each other of all the ridiculous and crazy stuff you have on each other, ‘cause you can’t possibly remember yourself. For some reason drinking stories always seem to surface and be the most in abundance.


I’m not a drinker. I’m what alcoholics call “sober” or what teenagers call “a pussy”. I don’t have medical evidence to back it up, but I’m fairly certain that I have an allergy to alcohol, because most of the time when I consume it, it comes back up.


There are a lot of wonderful stories starring yours truly, a lot of passing out in the neighbor’s lawn, on the porch, in closets, in the trunk of my own car, etc. As such, there are also a lot of disgusting stories with me having the major role in “Vomit Gone Wild”. Some examples would be vomiting in bed, in cars, on my shoes, on other people and in the punch bowl and grandma’s 87th birthday party. They’re all wonderful, but there was one story that seemed to sparkle just a little brighter than the rest.


I was told of the time that I was drinking at a friend’s tiny apartment. When I say tiny, I’m talking 100 square feet tiny. The bathroom door opened inwards to an incredibly small bathroom. So small in fact that the door didn’t even fully open as it was stopped by the sink cabinet.


Apparently, as the story goes, we were all sitting around drinking on Labor Day Eve, celebrating the fact we didn’t have to get up early and once again I consumed passed my limit. I got up and went into the bathroom to spend a little quality time with the toilet. After purging the demons from my body I got up to leave and passed out. My friends, whom I sure were extremely concerned, came to the bathroom to investigate the “thump”. When they tried to open the door they were unsuccessful as I had managed to lose consciousness between the door and the sink. No matter how hard they tried to open the door they couldn’t because of my pesky breathing corpse being the world’s largest door stop.


At first it was rather funny to them all, until the urge to urinate became prevalent. After trying to revive me by ramming and kicking the door, screaming at me and squeezing a hand through and shooting me with a water gun, they gave up and took turns peeing in the kitchen sink for the remainder of the evening. Not too shabby.


Do you have a better story than that? Let’s hear it and all laugh.


Egg On!

Ramblin’ Rooster



—Riddle Me Rooster—


The answer to last weeks riddle was “At lunch it goes back for seconds”

No one guessed, so I’ll be taking myself to the bar for drinks.


Tonight’s riddle:


What animal should you never play cards with?


Submit you’re answer as a comment for the chance to win fabulous make-believe prizes and come back next Sunday for the answer. Good luck!