28. April 2008 by WATSON.

No idea what category to place this one in. I’m going to go through this from MY PERSPECTIVE, please correct me if I’m wrong. Okay, here goes…

Parr and I decide to drive down to Commerce for Sumner and DF’s b-day party. We show up at about 11:00p.m. and the party is going full-force. Keg of Labatt’s. Beer-pong. Tiki-torches. Great music. Everyone is there — minus J.P. This is going to be a great night! Right?

So we make our way to the keg after getting some HOUSE CUPS! Start pounding beers. Yelling 6-1-83! Talking smack. Reminiscing. Being loud. Being goofy. You know how we do it.

I had a great conversation with Claire about working for the State of Michigan. It really is amazing how similar our positions are in regards to putting up with bull-shit and silly politics. I got your back, Claire!

Sumner is fully wasted at this point. He decides to go inside and start rockin’ out on his SG, and like, a minute later, cop rolls up in front of the house. Now, I don’t believe it was caused by him playing guitar, because the cop showed up almost simultaneously. I’m sure some neighbor called about the loud music, or us being rowdy playing beer-pong. Anyway, Sumner goes out and talks to him, cop says we gotta be quiet, and then takes off down the road — where he sits and waits for like 10 minutes. Eventually the cop goes away, and of course, we go back to being — well, I guess we’ll call it ’semi-rowdy’. Haha. 6-1-83!

I make my way inside to the living room where Sumner, Margeaux, Sarah, Dear and a few others are chilling, talking about music. I think I went nuts about how much I’m into metal now, and how I love heavy-heavy guitar. The more and more we talk about music and guitar, the more and more I want to grab my Ovation and bring it in to play. So that’s what I decide to do — go out to Parr’s car and grab my guitar. This is where it gets dangerous…

I walk out the front door by Fopat’s drum set, and step onto the porch. Not as many people were out there at this point. I step down onto the lawn, and start walking towards the car. I probably take like 3 or 4 steps, and BAMM! OWW! FUCK!

Felt like I kicked something with my left leg, like when you run into a coffee table and hit your shin. It was dark out there, so I couldn’t tell what I hit, but my leg hurt so I started hobbling back to go into the bathroom so I could get a better look. First thing I noticed was that there wasn’t that much blood. I was surprised, because I could see I was cut, and it looked kinda bad, but the bleeding was minimal. That’s when I knew it was really bad.

I got into the bathroom and my goodness, yes, it was bad. About a 1 inch wide, 3 inches long gash on my left shin. Must have been an impact wound. Split right open. I find some toilet paper to cover it up, then I start looking for bandage pads. I start calling for Dear and Fopat, and I think Dear is the only one who heard me. So he probably was the first to see the wound. Now, keep in mind, I am usually really good with blood and guts and all that shit, so I was perfectly calm at this point. It didn’t hurt that much (likely because I was intoxicated) but I knew I needed stitches. Problem is, who is sober enough to drive?

Then more and more people start walking into the bathroom saying, “Ohhh, can I see it? EEEWW! GROSS! Wow, that’s really bad, Watson. Yeah, you definitely need stitches. EEEWW! GROSS! Wow.” You know, all the reassuring things I need to hear.

So then I become really, really hot. I can feel myself getting light-headed, and my anxiety level rising dramatically. PEOPLE, GET AWAY FROM ME!

Go outside and sit on some steps. Then more people want to see the wound. “Eeeww, wow, oh my god, sick!” And, of course, “Yeah, you need stitches, Watson.” WELL FUCKING SHIT, I KNOW THIS! WHO CAN DRIVE?

Anxiety continues to rise. Sarah Opalko decides she is going to drive me, so I stand up to get into the car. Felt like everything just went downwards, and, apparently I passed out. Now, I don’t remember this part. All I remember is waking up in the car, with a bottle of water in my hands and my head out the window.

I guarantee that I would not have passed out if everyone didn’t make a big deal out of it. Fopat can vouch for me on this one. But, then again, everyone was FUCKING WASTED. So, of course they were going to make a big deal. Maybe I went into shock without knowing. I know one thing, that I can tolerate pain fairly well, and I’ve only passed out once in my life, at a doctor’s office when my blood-sugar level was very low. Either way, I was on the way to Huron Valley-Sinai Hospital…RUN! I mean, DRIVE!

Sarah O. drives me, and Margeaux and Fopat go along for the trip. Hospital is like less than 10 minutes away. I’m feeling much better now that nobody is in my face. Get to the hospital and like, was seen almost immediately, which was great. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been to the hospital for anything serious. Probably when I broke my leg in the 8th grade while sledding.

They take me back to one of the rooms, and start assessing my injury. We used the bandage pads that Sumner had and some electrical tape to adhere the pad, so it looked kinda funny when they were taking it off. Doctor came in, and was like, “Yep. You need stitches, my friend.” YES!

I was so excited to watch the procedure. I called the nurse over and was like, “Can I please have my friends come back here. PLEASE!” So she says one person can come back. I start yelling for FOPAT! A few minutes later Fopat comes walking into my room, and just as he gets in the Doctor shows back up and says, “No, he cannot be in here.” We’re like, WTF?! So he kicks Fopat out. Oh well.

Doc puts a towel under my leg, and then just starts dousing the wound with all kinds of crazy fluid. Then he shoots it up with a numbing fluid, which kinda stung. Then he brings over that blue towel thing that goes over my leg and has a hole just for the wound. SO COOL!

So the first stitch he does was the best one to watch, because he had to pull the skin back together. Wow! It really spread apart far. After that it was a pretty quick procedure. I don’t think I was in the hospital for more than 45 minutes. I got a tetanus shot done, which also kinda hurt. My shoulder is more sore than my leg, from that shot. Ended up with 8 stitches in all, and will likely have a really bad-ass scar to remember this whole crazy incident by.

I’d like to give a shout-out to Sarah O. Thank GOD you were sober enough to drive me. Owe you big time. Another shout-out to Fopat and Margeaux for moral support. My final shout-out is to that damn septic/water-well thing that I fucked my leg up by kicking it — this isn’t the end of our battle, and believe me, Watson will find a way to fuck you up more than 8 stitches worth, you bastard piece of jagged metal/plastic. BITCH!

So I’ve got to keep the stitches in for 10 days. Hopefully it does not get infected. It looks/feels fine. I actually played golf the next day. I’m a trooper. PREACES!

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26. April 2008 by gbomb.

last night was amazing!

happy birthday once again to sumner and dan from red fire… both the big 2-5!

everyone was there is seemed like (minus J.P., of course) and we went nuts… fopat bought a keg, and the place erupted…

beer pong mania, parr and myself breaking chairs, cops showing up, and of course…

watson slicing his leg open and had to be taken to huron valley hospital to get stitches, haha…

there are pictures on my facebook and you should check him out…

GREAT NIGHT!!!

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25. April 2008 by Fopat.

A young man has a great date planned with a hot chick, unfortunately he’s also got a bad case of gas. Upon arriving at the girl’s house to pick her up, he meets the parents and waits for her in the living room while she finishes getting ready.

At this point his stomach is turning and he’s doing the best he can to hold his gas. This is some serious stuff too, beer and beef burrito farts - the stuff dreams are made of. Luckily, just before he was about to explode Spot, the family dog, jumps on his lap as he sits on the couch. He figures it’s safe to let out alittle bit of the pressure and and if anyone notices they’ll think that the dog did it.

He farts, and the woman yells, “Spot, get down from there.” The guy thinks to himself, “Thank God! They think the dog did it.” Seizing the opportunity, he lets out another fart and the woman, again, yells for the dog to get down.

This goes on for a few more farts when, finally, the woman yells loudly, “Dammit Spot, get down before he shits on you!”

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24. April 2008 by Fopat.

Have you ever gone shopping for any kind of cleaning product and read “Advanced Formula” on the label? Seriously though, what is so advanced about it? More than likely it is a marketing gimmick and it is just as advanced as it’s competitors or it is just slightly different from it’s old formula that is just as effective…but on the other hand, I don’t want the “Old and Simple” formula. I want the most advanced stuff you can buy! Advanced Formula 4 LIFE!

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24. April 2008 by gbomb.

so, let’s just avoid all the b.s. of you knowing very well what was going to happen… but, much sooner than even you expected!

i canceled my sprint account! so, if you have that phone number, then you will know it no longer works…

thank god though, i got charged absolutely nothing aside of the calls i made, no early termination fee…

i will not get into why i ditched sprint, because there is no sense, lol…

i am back to verizon, and my old number… kind of…

as of this instant, it does not work… tomorrow when i wake up, it will be just fine like it used to be… i hope you have the old number still (this goes for everyone who i talk to), but if not, then i will send out a big text again to everyone in the next day or two…

another thing, which is kind of a downer for now… my phone number on verizon will be just fine, but the ear-piece speaker on my enV still does not work (the reason i left in the first place), but the verizon guy told me just to go the verizon store and get it fixed for a cost much less than a new phone would cost…

i guess i always assumed since i did not have insurance, i would be screwed… but, this is a good sign…

so, everyone who has verizon, i am back… go back to putting the little (V) after the name Kyle G-Bomb Gutherie in your phone, haha…

ohh and watson… i will deal with you and your psychic ways on friday!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUMNER!!!

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21. April 2008 by WATSON.

I want the new category to be called ‘CRUNK’. It is truly amazing that I can keep on one-upping myself on crazy/bizarre nights. I recommend reading this one, caz I guarantee this hasn’t happened to any of you before…if it did, please reply…

Started off on the golf course, Groesbeck in Lansing. I played great! Shot a 43 (par 36) on the back 9 with 1 birdie. I’m so surprised that my driving has been good and my putting has been great. I’ve never started off a season with my swing feeling this well. Golf started at 6:00PM, so that means the drinking started at 6:10PM. I probably put down a sixer in about 3 hours of golf (we played twilight, which means you pay a certain rate — $9 at this one — and you get as many holes in as you can before it gets dark). We got in 14 holes.

Head home and decide to do some shots of Jager with Parr before we go out for the night. Fucking gross. I don’t mind Jager-Bombs, but straight shots of Jager just kills me. I don’t even know whose Jager it was. Sanchez? Dear? Oh well, it’s gone now if someone claims it.

Head out to Michigan Ave. just past downtown. We (me, Parr, Ben & Steph) go to Moriarty’s Pub first, which had a cool live funk-band playing. The bar sucked, so we left after one drink. Right next door is Stobers Cocktail Lounge. This is where the story gets interesting…

Stobers is awesome. Long, narrow bar. Raised seating. Cool atmosphere. They’ve got pinball machines, shuffleboard, darts, cool music. The bar is amazing, the back wall behind it is all these wood carvings of like dragons and wizards and shit. It’s like, this huge wood carving that was apparently shipped from like Scotland or England. Never seen anything like it before.

I opened a tab and got us some pitchers of Killian’s and Miller Light (of course Watson was drinking the Killian’s). We just chilled for a while drinking some booze, and I’m just hammered now. Going on almost 8 hours of drinking. I was watching some shuffleboard, and before you know it, LAST CALL! So we get one last pitcher, and I go to close my tab while the others wait in the booth. Went something like this:

WATSON (standing at bar): “I’d like to close my tab. Name’s Watson.”

BARTENDER (female, red hair, mid 30s): “What’d you say?” (with a confused look)

WATSON: “I want to close the tab under Watson.”

BARTENDER: “Oh no…”

WATSON: “Huh?”

Turns out, some dude got MY tab, signed MY name, and left with MY card. WTF?

Immediately, I feel my Irish blood rushing to my head, and the potential vulgarities reaching the tip of my tongue…SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?!

Bartender tells me to calm down, they are sending the bouncers down the street to find the douche-bag (she didn’t actually say douche-bag, but that’s all I could think of when hearing about this guy…I mean douche-bag) and bring my card back. I sit on one of the stools, put my feet up on the bar, and I’m like, “Well, you’d better call the cops ma’am, caz this is not a good situation.”

Cops are called. Parr comes up to me, and I’m like, “Can you believe this shit?” Seriously, have any of you heard of this happening before?

Anyway, bouncers miraculously find the douche-bag and his friends, and physically bring them back to the bar, grab my card back from them, gives the card to the bartender who, to my surprise, fully comps me from all of the alcohol I bought. SWEET!

So we decide to get out of there, caz a fight is a brewing, and as we are leaving the bouncers are holding this douche-bag back, while he’s talking shit to me! Okay. You steal my card, commit fraud, then you have the nerve to talk shit?

Well, we get in the car, drive past them just yelling FUCK YOU! DOUCHE-BAGS! FUCKIN’ LOSERS! The funny thing is, the bouncers gave the guy his real tab, and the guy signed it and decided not to tip at all. What an asshole. 40 year old white dude, probably on crack.

Well, that’s my story. Let me know if you’ve been through something like that before…

C-Town on Friday — yea, yeah! Foweses phone. G-bomb fo-lyfe. tRu

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18. April 2008 by WATSON.

Okay, so I get out of work yesterday and I’m just itching to do something.  Stressful day (very unusual at my job).  All I want to do is drink and do SOMETHING besides sitting in my house.  So I call everyone that lives around here.  Half the people don’t answer, another quarter are either married or have kids or both so they can’t do shit, and the other quarter answer and say they aren’t doing shit.  FUCK.

I was about to give up and start doing my laundry or some shit like that, then Boatbottom calls me.   Conversation went something like…

Watson: BOATBOTTOM!  THANK GOD!

Boatbottom: Hey Watson, what’s up?

Watson: Let’s do something!

Boatbottom: Wanna go golfing?

Watson: YES!  THANK FUCKING GOD!

So we played twilight at Groesbeck (only city course that is open, the rest are indefinitely closed due to money issues) for $9, cannot beat that.  I shot 48 and got my first birdie of the year.  I probably drank about 4 16oz. cans of Budweiser on the course, so Watson is feeling pretty good at this point.  I get home and finish my six pack.  Get into some dumb argument with Parr and Ben about whether or not this country could function being in a state of ‘anarchy’.  Haha.

Proceed to convince Ben to go get more drinks downtown (Parr had to study for finals) and play some pool.  We end up going to the Firm, and to my surprise they actually have a drink special — $1 Miller Lights!!!  Well, obviously I put down about six of these and Ben beat me in every game of pool we played (I am crunk to the face at this point).  Close down the bar, and what does everyone want at 2:30AM when they are wasted?  That’s right.  Greasy food.

Luckily Cottage Inn is right next door and they are open until like 3:00AM (just in time for the bar crowd).  So we walk in there, and to my astonishment (well, not really, things don’t surprise me much nowadays) there is a 65 year old bum sleeping on one of the tables.  Hmmmm, what should Watson do?  Ignore the man?  Of course not!

Order my pizza for me and Ben, then I plop right down next to the man and start screaming, “HEY MOTHER FUCKER!  HEY!”  Guy like, jumps right up, and instead of ignoring me he starts yelling with me!  I would say something like, AHHH SHIT DAMN SHIT!  He would repeat everything I’d say, but with a huge lack of  pronunciation.  He would say, AHH SSSSSSH   AMMM   SHHHH!  Or something like that.  LOL  I guess you’d have to be there, but if you know me well enough, I’m sure you’re laughing at this right now.

Anywho, crazy night.  Likely to be crazy again tonight.  Golfing after work.  Gonna go for a sub 45…..

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16. April 2008 by WATSON.

Win the series against Minnesota, way to go.  Four home-runs!  Maggs had a great game, 2 for 4, 2 RBI, HR, double.  Guillen also went 2 for 4, 1 RBI, HR.  Sheffield had a 1st inning homer and Cabrera hit a two-run shot in the 8th capping another great Tigers rally win.  Feel the momentum switching?  Two games up at Cleveland next…

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15. April 2008 by WATSON.

I must say, I would not be able to function in any capacity without my coffee in the morning. Just forget about talking to me before like NOON if I haven’t had coffee. It’s like I’m bipolar between the hours of 8:00AM and NOON–Watson without coffee will bite your head off–Watson with coffee will shine your shoes and buy you a beer. Mmmmm, beer.

The Tigers really impressed me last night with a big win over Minnesota (and by big, I mean thank fucking God we didn’t lose our 11th of 13). Pudge had a HUGE game, 2 for 4, triple, HR, and 3 RBI’s. ABOUT TIME! That’s why we pay the guy $10.5 million a year.

Hopefully that rally win will boost their confidence and get them Tigers playing how they should be. Otherwise, if you can’t draw momentum off a game like that, and your lineup is as powerful as the Tigers is, then what are you playing for? Either way I was finally getting that feeling last night that the Tigers are where they should be, with 10 losses or zero. 149 games to go, tons of time to improve. GO TIGERS! And, drink coffee.

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15. April 2008 by gbomb.

it is not working, and i am sad…

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