Indeed, many a time have I found myself throwing up into a trash bin after being ejected from a bar without standards to begin with, or witnessing a fraction of the sort of debauchery that occurred last night, but I am proud to say that I know I'll always have a good time when I visit. Naturally, then, coming for St. Patrick's Day wasn't even a question, and born from the excitement of the day came the idea that I would take a picture of myself with every new can of Old Milwaukee that I opened. I'm happy to say that I followed through - I have twelve, even though I did drink more than that (we started playing beer pong and beersbee [beer Frisbee] under the hot sun around one in the afternoon) - and hopefully the deterioration of my state over the images is visible. (I think it certainly is) And so I bring this to you, my reader: I invite you to relive my day yesterday through this shameless column of Matt portraits. I had every intention on sharing these in some sort of social networking facet from the beginning so humour is the name of the game. Enjoy the progression through intoxication and varying light exposures!
|Commencement! (lies, though: I had played beer pong already so this is technically number three)|
|I think this came right after a Jagerbomb, in my defense.|
|Alright there's just no defense for this,|
|This isn't even my face.|
|I look like a feral child.|