Do ya Booya?

First, a confession. I went to Sweeney's Friday night and I ate some of their food. I hang my head in shame and prostrate myself on the alter of Decent Fries. What was I thinking!? I friggin' hate their food! And they did not disappoint me - it was so foul, so rank, that I continue to contend that anyone claiming their food is good should be hung by their taste buds in a Burmese fish market at the hottest hour of the day. RANK.
I'd gone out with my friend Candace and we were at the Independent for 2 for 1's - me hearty two for onsesy! Especially, when her boss was there and kind enough to pick up my drinks, too. Sweet. He was planning to go to Sweeney's, which is how I ended up eating "chicken fingers" which were really 3 chicken tenderloins battered in panko and dropped into the fishiest grease this side of Mrs. Paul's. Gack. So, not enjoying the food leads to a hangover.
What I didn't think about then, and I should have known, is that somewhere in the West 7th chapter of the St. Paul rule book it is stated that if you're starting the weekend with a hangover - best to just end it that way, too. Makes for a nice set of bookends, ya know?
Sunday was the Silver Fox Booya. Now, unlike the whole two other people who have talked about this particular booya on the internet - I know what the Silver Fox club does. Not much(maybe it's just that secret what they really do.) Well, there is the drinking. One of the guys that Matt works with is a member - as is Pete Skinner - owner of beloved Skinner's Pub. The rules seem to be that you have to have an exploitable skill (plumber, pub owner, bartender, etc.) and be able to hold your own after copious amounts of beer and liquor. They unnecessarily stay up for days stirring the booya pots, drinking and bonding in a way that men only can when the entire world surrounding them is just waiting to be peed on. (No! Not the food! It's in a park.)
We arrived early to take our place in line. A lot of people bring their own pots and bins, but we figure one or two bowls is a'plenty. I've had a couple of other booya's and I must say, the Silver Fox's is the best. Others are a little heavy handed on the cinamon and nutmeg. Theirs is just earthily spicy; not at all bland. It's as complex as it possibly can be considering that they've sort of boiled the shit out of everything in there and dumped in canned peas and green beans.
So, it's not top shelf dining, but the sun was gorgeous this weekend! The weather couldn't have been better. And there was BEER! So, why not roll with the punches and just have a few?
J.Lo showed up with her new friend and neighbor, and we convinced them that they outta have a couple, too. Lucky for us - our new friend is from Wisconsin - Luck to be precise! Why, indeed, we were in Luck.
I haven't had that much fun on a Sunday afternoon since I don't know when. And there was the buzz we were working on. Did you know that when even barely room temperature Miller Light smells exactly like my cat's urine? It's true! BUT, when quickly guzzled while still cold, it's dayum tasty.
(And YES - before you attempted defenders say a word - Cat pee is still better than eating at Sweeney's.)
Slowly the crowd broke up - we were FAR from the only drinkers in the crowd. In fact, I'd venture we were still amongst some of the more sober folks.
We headed down to Skinner's for a St. Paul specialty - sausage and kraut pizza, something I can only muscle down when I'm rocking a buzz. But, our boy Wisco dove right in! God bless the Wisconsinians! (Wisconsi-onians?) Beer everywhere, sausage, often covered in kraut and CHEESE! I'd move there if I wasn't afraid of the inevitable heart attack at age 35.
While devouring our pie of goodness, we had a couple pitchers of Schell's. I'm proud to report that Skinner's is now carrying TWO different varieties of Schell's, October Fest and the Schell's Dark (my personal favorite.)
As the Viking's game drew to an end the fact that the sun was still shining brightly started to get to me. Oh, no. I'm one of THOSE people. The ones that Matt curses every time he's stuck working a Sunday shift. ("It's gorgeous outside! What is wrong with you people, drinking in the middle of the day!?")
Plus, there's Laura's friend. What has he got to think of these booze-hounds that we've made ourselves out to be?
We stood, bid a completely sober and graceful adieu, ("You guys are AWESOME! Vikes suck!" "No Vikes RULE!" "WHATEVER!") We ambled on home. Can't wait for next year!