It's the An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05

Woooo....It's almost St. Patrick's Day. You know what that means, us good ol' Irish get to celebrate our wonderful heritage. Uh...that and.....every...uh....everyone goes out and drinks delicious green beer. That's it!! Technically this past Saturday was the St. Patty's Day round here, or as I like to call it, the An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05. (Annual Syracuse Irish Drinking Conference 2005) Not a bad time I tells ya. Not bad at all. That's what our current toastedblog entry is all abut internet faithful. Oh yeah, that and I can never again refer to Phelp's as Chumps.

As many as you know, our god pal, resident chef, and medical consultant Phelps has been given the nickname Chumps from your friendly neighborhood Toast by account of him being, at times, my arch-nemesis. Other than being an Eagles fan and having keener culinary instincts, Phelps has never done anything to warrant such a nickname; as a matter of fact Phelps has stated that he indeed really likes the Toast. To be honest, Phelps is pretty awesome........off the record of course. I just like the forced animosity; kind of like wrestling your brother. Do my friends have brothers? A recent interaction betwixt Phelpsy and myself has, in fact, changed my opinion of who the "actual" Chumps is in this friendship.

Think back if you will, to a time before time actually existed or, if you're having difficulty, we'll just use Saturday afternoon. Yeah, lets just go with Saturday. The annual parade mentioned above was occuring and the Toastmaster General was all riled up to stand outdoors with some good people and have a few too many brews. I headed over shortly after 12pm with my long time gal pal Chukes (or Michelle) to meet up with a few friends to enjoy the afternoon the only way us Irish know how. To quote the infamous T.T., It's my birthday...and I'm getting drunker!! At this point, my tentative battleplan for the afternoon was drive downtown with a backpack full of 'Stones, find everybody's favorite little crapper Charlie Coville and girlfriend Mary with whom we are supposed to meet up with and call Billy Shannon for there were talks of going to eat at Sud's Factory, complete with Rage Kage and wicked fun Jaime at 1:30. After a brief run in with Billy and the ladies while Toast was trying to locate a restroom facility, Part B of An-Syr-Iri-Dri-Con '05 was taken care of. That is, I now don't have to worry about calling Billy. The act of going to Sud's and eating terrific sandwiches which should have been No. 2 on the priority list never actually takes place. We blame that entirely on Priority No. 1. See birthday line above.

Ok, this is when we get to Phelpsy. After the parade ends; roughly 3pm, I am wandering around with a good twelve pack in me and I've missed Sudsy Billy and the company of some lovely ladies. That and food. I walk in to Mulrooney's, grab a beer, and mingle, running into some people I don't see too often anymore like college buddy and current accountant Timmy Hyle, and one surprising run-in with a kid named Mike Donnelly. (little help from the Donnelly campaign!) He was a Freshman when I was a Senior at LeMoyne and a fellow left winger on the hockey team. Toast, who during the off-season had been dubbed "Senior Sensation" by the LeMoyne media took well to the encourageable Freshman and faced off in many a hockey bus ride beer chug challenges during the one year that we played together in school. He was a good kid and recognzed me as soon as I walked by. We chatted, enjoyed a drink or two, and now I am getting off track.

While waiting in line for the bathroom, Billy, Kathie, Jaime, and Phelpsy stroll on by. I ramble on like I have a few drinks in me and ultimately do shots with Phelps. After a few more drinks somehow I end up at the Stoop, a martini bar. Why am I here?? Oh well, after a beer or two there is talk of beaking to the Irish relm of Syracuse, and the Toasted home base, Tipperary Hill. Great, now I can go get something to eat and relax for a moment before heading out and gearing up for the Big East Championship game a little bit later. The refrigerator was already prepared for my arrival seeing as how there was leftover sausage with peppers and onion that I promptly reheated and ate in a drunken stupor....with horseradish mustard I might add. Then...suddenly...it happened. The couch proved to be too powerful for me and within minutes a nap was in order. Dang It!! I missed the S.U. game!! Double Dang It!! There are 11 messages on my cell phone wondering where I am!! Phelps is calling me out! Tremendous Dang It!!!

Now, we're looking at 10pm and I have completely lost the past three hours. Calls from Rage Kage, Kyle, Chumps (no longer Chumps), Mags, amongst others have been unable to awaken me from my sandwich enduced slumber. Even worse news would soon follow upon noticing that when I fell asleep on the couch on Pseudo St. Patty's Day the other half of my sandwich had fallen on the floor, no telling how long its been there. #?%& !!

10:30 pm and I am now standing outside local Irish bar Coleman's to prove to Phelps that I am not the new Chumps and to salvage the rest of my St. Patrick's Day. No matter what I say, I cannot convince myself that the mass of man seated before me and not the Toast should have the surname Chumps. I don't think that after my little sleeping performance I should have the privilege of calling one of my friends an undeserved nickname, I did however rally like a trooper and stayed out until 3am. What makes the evening either greater was the fact that Phelpsy and myself are no longer the mortal enemies that we were. Now I can only call him Chumps when playing Golden Tee or while watching Shockey blow up the Eagles. SHOCK-EY!!!

In other toasted news, the playoffs have started in my hockey league. We lost our first game of the postseason 7-5 but we have a chance to even the series tomorrow night. My team, the Underdogs, have our work cut out for us but I think we'll be fine. Maybe I'll bring a flask on the bench, it will be St. Patrick's Day after all. Sorry its been so long since a decent toasted blog. Just you wait till after this weekend. What's up you ask?? Let's just say that B.L.'s may have some walking drunks on Friday and Saturday. What the hell, Sunday too.