I Tell Ya—It’s All but Lies

There is nothing better than a road trip—well, maybe if you are staying overnight for more than a night. Although it was our first real trip away from home for any length of time, it was going to be a road trip that would be remembered for the rest of our lives. We were going to be away for only half a fortnight. How would we cope with being away from home for that length of time? There were not going to be any wives, girlfriends, or even mummies to look after us. Would we survive, or could we even survive? I’m sure our livers would not have lasted much more than the seven days of heavy drinking that we did. This trip was going to be the start of the rest of our lives. It was going to be the ultimate road trip …
It was going to be eight guys looking to play a little golf, eight guys looking for a little love, and eight guys trying to figure out who was going to be able to drink the most. The thing is, I thought I had it all wrapped up before we had even left Canada.
The eight of us who came to party were as follows: Theodore the farmer, who was supposed to be our designated driver for the week, but he became our designated drunk. We had Pudden, who was the only sensible one in the bunch. His brother-in-law Kevin also came. I think he came; well, they told me he came. My best friend, Stewart came; but all he wanted to do was fight me for all the girlies that we encountered. Johnny, my twin brother, who could do no wrong, also came. Of course, we had gullible Paulie, who acted like an eight-year-old all the time. Then, there was Buddy, who was easily tricked into doing just about anything that we wanted him to do. And then there was me; I’m pretty sure that all I did the whole trip was drink and listen to some loud rock and roll music.
As you come across each little incident, you will likely figure out that it was not all about me. It’s just that I had to write it that way to protect all the guilty participants.