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My friends call me “IronGut”

… a large bowl of seafood chowder, an entire appetizer of breaded and fried calamari, a couple cocktails and countless beers — that is what I consumed last night, in efforts to prove to a certain west riverbank establishment (that we discovered, all but exploited folks’ desire for seated fireworks viewing) that I, and my party were profitable enough customers to justify the space that we occupied. Around 2:30 am or so, my abdominal entrails churned, heaved and ached quite severely, but they held out admirably, and processed their unruly contents without expelling them.

Thanks IronGut! You never let me down.

By thugwithyoyo

Boring stuff really. Not much to tell. One time a tree was struck by lightning not ten feet from me. It like, exploded, and the blast knocked me over! I was okay though. Another time I got my pinky caught in a pipe vice on a drilling rig. The vice nearly severed it--that was kind of exciting I guess. Oh yes, and one time I was sued for 3 million dollars. Top that..!

3 replies on “My friends call me “IronGut””

Oh my, did I have fun last night. Too much fun, because I’m still recovering. My stomach also started to complain about 4:00, but I maintained. So many oysters and bacon-wrapped prawns and wine and marjaritas. Why oh why? Then more when I got home until I crawled into bed. A bit of excess, but hell, it was our country’s birthday, something that should be done up well. Sorry about the un-American behavior of the restaurant. I’ll buy a boat for next year.

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