Discord Staff Pledge to Drink as Much as Possible this Saint Patrick’s Day
Collapsing Shack Arizona: In an unprecedented move, the entire staff of The Daily Discord has pledged to drink as much as possible this Saint Patrick’s Day. When asked to elaborate, Zano had this to say, “I know a lot of people drink quite a bit on Saint Paddy’s, but we are going to drink so much that normal people will seem like a bunch of nuns at an AA meeting.”
When asked what the purpose of all this drinking was, Griffiths had no problem explaining. “We all know that Saint Patrick was responsible for saving many aspects of Christian history and supposedly drove the snakes from Ireland. As a Pagan snake worshipper, all this just makes me sad, want to smash U2 albums, and kick a leprecon in the head. So that’s why I’m drinking and I’ll also be making a model of Saint Patrick out of living mice and duct tape and feeding it to my Reticulated Python.”
After searching the entire Discord Tower Complex, we caught up with Winslow in the dumpster, trying to find something to eat. “No no no… we aren’t doing this as a charity fundraiser, but that would have been a good idea, my ride does need a new set of tires. I consider this more of a silent protest against the capitalistic money grubbers that aren’t giving me my piece of the Sheppard’s Pie. How am I going to afford a second exotic petting zoo on the south lawn of my third estate with all these people refusing to share their wealth? Trickle down my ass.” When asked to elaborate more on his feeling regarding Reagonomics, he said, “No, I mean I think I felt something trickle down my ass.”
As I was leaving, the Getto Shaman ran into me with his car and from the looks of things, he had started his celebrating a little early. “The rest of these guys here are a bunch of panty waists and not fit to be shown a bottle of Vermouth at ten paces. Griffiths and Zano with their beers and Winslow with his Boonsfarm and abstince. I’ll be drinking like a real Irishman, not some micro-snob trustafarrin. Whiskey with a Whiskey chaser over here. I’m going to drink so much my puke will be 80 proof, which my dog for one will enjoy.”
When pressed for any real reason to be drinking so much none of them could give me the same answer twice. Although the fact it would be a Saturday seemed important to Cokie before she passed out. When it was pointed out that pledging to do something usually means an association to a good cause or at least a positive social outcome, Griffiths punched me in the face and then asked if I wanted to wrestle.
Later, after I put ice on my jaw and was trying to sneak out the side door, Zano attempted to sell me his rare beer coaster collection that was just a stack of used paper towels. Winslow asked me to buy him a case of aged Scotch, but only handed me a dollar. The Getto Shaman mumbled a thread of obscenities and demanded they all go for a drive. They yelled with unbridled glee and rushed into his Caddy. Unfortunately I was dragged along. I’m going to send this off before my laptop battery goes dead. If it gets posted, I guess that means that some of us made it back alive.