Short and sweet.
You woke up with a sore back and a bad batch of coffee. Later rallied to Mariah Carey’s “Sweet Fantasy,” had an amazing workout, played around with a rugby ball, and tired yourself out.
Down at the town pub, you, Neil, and Griet took down two pints and were “off your tits.” Two more pints, and the rest is a bit hazy. A GIANT leprechaun walked into the pub. You may have leapt out of your seat, explained that you were an American, and demanded a picture.
Back at the house, you screamed bloody murder and jumped into the 10 degree pool (or maybe it was the other way around). You then ran through the house, tracking water. A brief, soaking wet wrestling match in the attic, and then back outdoors to the hot tub with a bottle of cheap run.