Beer fest, pool wounds and Dolly Parton

We, as in my fellow felons for the weekend, had a booze-brunch Sunday at Fresco's. Cocktails at Pelican Pub came next and then our terrible trio ended up back at the pool where the demon vodka bottle reappeared.

I finally tapped out and watched the Rays beat the BoSox, while curled up on my parent's sofa, because, well, I didn't have the fortitude to make it back to Tampa (they live in St. Pete) and my own place in SoHo.

[image-1]Tonight, I'm off to see Dolly Parton. I'm a big fan of the country queen but I'm also hurtin.' In order for me to stay awake the entire time, Parton might have to perform topless, or I might have to picture her performing topless. Either way, it's going to be totally weird since I'm bringing my mom to the show.

It was a long, rough weekend and I have the scars to prove it. It all started last Friday with a four-beer lunch at The Bungalow in SoHo, followed by a trip to the Courtney Campbell Causeway where I joined coworkers (and a cheap ass) for too many mojitos (and a $260 tab!) at Oyster Catchers. Next came too many beers at Whiskey's Joe's. Finally, wine was consumed back at my apartment because, y'know, what's a good night of imbibing if you don't hit at least three of the major liquid food groups?

Those wounds I refer to in the first sentence? They're on my forehead. Scraped my big head against the bottom of a pool while trying to do a handstand. Twice. Yeah, I took a dip late Saturday after Creative Loafing's terrifically hedonistic Beer Fest, held in downtown St. Pete at Jannus Landing.That's CL publisher Sharry Smith standing next to me. She didn't join us for the swim. Thank gawd. There are some things your boss just really shouldn't witness — no matter how cool she is about the off-the-clock shenanigans of her "alternative newspaper" employees.

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