I used to drink tequilla...

Wow... I was just talking to a friend last night as we recalled one of our drunken stories, which we lovingly call: "The Legend of The Moose"

This story is pretty legendary in Isla Vista where most of my buddies went to college. A few of them live together in an apartment by the beach and when one of them moved in he had an inflatable moose head that he took while he was moving out of the dorms, which apparently belonged to his roommate. Every time we came over to drink everyone would pay their respects to the moose, give the moose something to drink and even put hats on the moose. Good times were had by all during those days with the moose. They even made The Moose his own MySpace page.

One night, I was told, they had a party and his old dorm roommate showed up and saw the moose in the living room and after a brief scuffle thought it would be a great idea to come back when everyone was passed out and steal the moose back. This was not cool and we grieved the moose very much. But seeing as how the moose belonged to him in the first place, we just had to grin and bare it.

One night, while I was down there for the weekend getting tanked with the boys as usual, we made Irish Car Bombs until everyone caught a buzz and then we dusted a 3 handles of Captain Morgan's Spiced rum between 9 guys and girls. By 1 am we were fucking WASTED and one guy randomly said, "You know what I miss, man? I miss THE MOOSE!"

Moment of silence... And then an UPROAR!

"Well alright then... Let's go get him back!" What I can only describe it sounded like after this is: BATTLE CRIES! as we all ran down to this guy's house who took him in the middle of the night. We came up, knocked on the door and some girl answered the door. Apparently our culprit was away for the weekend and his roommate was having a party of his own. We drunkenly explained the situation to her and said, "Look. That's our fucking moose and we're taking it back!" Naturally she refused at which point we left for 20 minutes and then just rushed back into the house (not unlike a home invasion, I might add) grabbed the moose hanging from the living room wall and sprinted out the door with a girl chasing us with a knife and yelling on the phone with whom we presumed was the police. Meanwhile, we're running back up the street yelling at the top of our lungs holding the moose head high over our heads like a pack of ravenous savages who had just beheaded their latest and greatest kill and were rowdily parading it down to the campfire where we'd sing and dance to our victory over nature. We were just ASKING to get arrested that night and the local cops did give chase on foot for a while but we avoided them by hopping fences and splitting up.

Moral of the story? Don't get drunk and steal moose heads from people.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Should I be worried that I don't remember typing this post?

There's nowhere I can't reach.