"You're the patron saint of the totally fucked, you're completely toxic, there's nothing you can't kill, you're the Violator. You can do this. You can get us the fuck out of here man. You can be the hero."
MessFest is in the books. And never was a weekend so aptly named than this shitstorm that has become one of the highlights of my year. This 2 or 3 or 4 day bender is so freakin' awesome, it deserves a tshirt or a logo or a fukkin koozie or something. It also warrants an early escape on Sundays before the 8am blackberry brandy omelets start coooking. In a nutshell, this is about 15 to 18 guys from Lowell who are too old and fat and baked to realize that drinking for 3 days is a baaaaaaaaad idea... that rearranging the firewood while wearing fleece ski gloves is a baaaaaaad idea... that bacon burger dogs at 1am is a baaaaaad - nah, fuck it - that was a GREEEEAAAAT idea Froggy. If this year had a tshirt, this is what it would say on it:
Back to the house to drink ONE MILLION BEERS. Threw that F1Fiddy into 4 Low and buried the passenger side in two feet of snow to park on the road. Sorry about that TwoNut. The Creature Double Feature of the night: Hot Tub Time Machine and Me, Myself and Irene. Never did get a copy of Smokey and the Bandit. Next year's promise! Much thanks to Beasley and Mudbone for playing the generous hosts. Looking forward to next year already.