...professionally wise, at least. But personally, it's been a lot of fun. There was a bachelor party for my aforementioned "brotha from anotha motha." It was gangbusters. We went down to see the Mets play (read: get daddied) by the Phillies. General debauchery and hilarity ensued. The next day was a birthday party. I was horrifically hungover, and a day that was originally planned to include "just one or two rounds" turned into 7 hours of drinking. I felt as if I was fooling death on Sunday, escaping my hangover with more drinking. Apparently, hangovers are compounding, because Monday was atrocious.
Mondays and Fridays are my boxing days too. I decided that I would "sack up" and go to boxing. I needed that hooch out of my system with the quickness. Man oh man, my sweat smelled like straight up vodkas. Of course, this was the day that the instructor had us spar.
I landed a few powerful jabs on that doods face, and a few high left fake to body blow right combo. But I'll be damned if this dood didnt hit me in the liver! As if my liver hadn't had enough. This enraged me. I also noticed that if I threw a double jab, he would block my second jab way far away from his head, almost like he was pushing my gloves away. Ok buddy, Ok. So I landed a jab jab left hook combo right before the bell. Then I vomited.