F U Manchester!!! December 9, Hammers vs Liverpool.

So I thought that I would try and make it to the Celtic Crossing, my favorite bar ever, for the early game between Manchester United and Manchester City. The only problem with waking up early is always dependent on what you did the night before. Just so happens that two buggers came over to my house and kept me up until way after 12 midnight drinking Busch and watching You Tube. Well, needless to say that I woke up 10 minutes before the real match of the day came on. So I woke up, very hazy, still inside the em-battlements of last night and turned on the TV.  I walk into the living room and two of my droogies are passed out in different locations, a couch and chair. "Get the F up!!!, I have to go to the Bar!!!!".

Can you believe that! They get up, we proceed to my car. I drop the short one off at his house and I take the smellier one along to the bar for a gander at the game.  We walk through the front door just as the first half is finishing up. I am crying tears in my beers because the situation had gone from bad to worse as Liverpool were down to West Ham 2 - 1. Dammit, drink more beer and yell at the Television. Why are we drinking Guinness this early in the morning? By noon we are going to be schlitzed. The second half comes and goes, Jon Jo gets his name yelled by me a few to many times. I guess it is OK to be a loud super fan, drunk at 11am on a Sunday morning. Well, we were not hammered, just finely crusty around the edges of our well behaved selves. So holy shit, Joe Cole and Jon Jo do the clean up work for a fine LFC victory. Having that many Guinness in the early hours of the day is not leading to a abundance of productivity. It was a nice turn out in the bar. David and David were there as always, but then some left over Man U fans stayed around and then a few other LFC faithfuls that are on the quiet side were also there. So I shake everybody's hand after the game is finished, pay my bill and head for my favorite Mexican restaurant, Los Comales.

So I make it home around 2pm or something after eating. Guess what I did, passed out. As much fun as it is going to bar to watch a game it reeks havoc on the rest of the day. I know, so don't drink. But its hard to live by that logic since everybody else in the place is getting sloshed right along with you.