We prepared for St. Patrick’s Day with 160 green Jell-O shots, two bottles of Jameson, a case of Guinness with a bottle of Bailey’s for Irish car bombs, a keg of green beer, and lots of weed.

The next day, I woke up with my truck wrecked, several dead brain cells, a black eye, and a pair of blue balls. I’ll try my best to fill in the rest…

St. Patty’s Day Morning

I woke up to Jeff, the owner of the bar across the street, yelling up to my apartment.

“Hey, Johnny! Wake up! The cops are down here; somebody smashed your truck!”

Son of a bitch, I thought. What a thing to wake up to!

I went downstairs and completed a police report, then drove my wrecked-up, bumper-falling-off, piece-o-sh—t truck into my backyard.

The Party

My apartment is the prime location for a party on St. Patrick’s Day in New Orleans. Every year, the Irish pub across the street throws a huge block party to celebrate, and I have a 200-square-foot balcony overlooking the chaos below. Basically, my apartment is the V.I.P. section of this enormous block party.

My hair was colored green for the occasion, and I was wearing some ridiculous green sunglasses and wielding a megaphone.

I remember yelling down at people on the street, starting “Who Dat” chants, talking drunkards into raising their shirts for beads…

Car bomb, Jell-O shots, green beer…

My landlord chased one of my friends up the stairs. “No running up the stairs! You are going to sue me. I know it!” he yelled out in his little Spanish accent…

Car bomb, Jell-O shots, green beer…

There were so many friends coming and going. It seemed like every time someone new showed up … car bomb, Jell-O shots, green beer, kegstand…

We had some sweet party favors, too. Besides the jambalaya and red beans and rice, we had beads with little one-hitter weed pipes on them and beads with little green shot mugs on them. Pretty soon, we were taking shots of Jameson and smoking weed out of our beads … car bomb, Jell-O shots, green beer, kegstands, weed smoking, Jameson…

Toward the end of the party, someone had the great idea to start an arm-wrestling contest. The air was filled with testosterone.

After a while, arm wrestling wasn’t enough for Vic Dooley … car bomb, Jell-O shots, floating keg, empty bottles of Jameson, more weed…

Dooley, as you may remember, is my good friend who has an extremely narcissistic personality. He’s the type of guy who would have sex with your wife then beat you up and not even feel bad about it. As a matter of fact…

When he tired of arm wrestling, Dooley and some broad’s husband went out to the backyard and fought. The husband was beat up: cuts on his nose and over his eye, blood everywhere. Apparently, Dooley had sex with this guy’s wife a week prior…

Out of car bombs, out of Jell-O shots, out of Jameson, but found some beers to shotgun…

The party was a blur, but a successful blur. Happy Friday!

Pet Obituary

Scrambles the cat passed away on Monday, March 22 after being struck by a car. He was an a—hole of a cat, but he was loved.

When he was a kitten, Scrambles had a ridiculously large pair of balls. They looked like two orange cotton balls hidden under his tail. Although he was only a little guy, he walked as if he were a full-grown lion.

He was probably one of the most talkative cats I’ve ever met. I always thought, if he could speak, he would have done so with an Austrian accent (similar to Arnold Schwarzenegger).