Coming back from skiing now. In a great deal of pain. Not necessarily because of skiing (I'm an expert skier. It says so on my lift ticket.), but mostly because of the drunken brawl that happened Friday night.
We had a few to drink before we left and by the time we got to our hotel in East Stroudsburg we were feeling good. We went right to the bar and proceeded to drink more. They had dollar beers! I have no idea how many I drank, but we took a cab back to the hotel and the fight began.
There was no real reason to fight, but when sleeping arrangements were agreed upon, it was also like choosing sides in the most brutal rumble you could imagine. It was one bed versus the other. Me and my old man versus my two brothers. I'm not too sure on the details, but I know some serious injuries occurred. I chipped Kean's tooth with a vicious uppercut. He also had my right arm pinned and just punched it a dozen or so times as hard as he could. My Dad tackled Kean through a closet and they both emerged with head wounds. I got punched pretty bad in the lower lip and that had me sidelined for a bit with blood pouring out. My Dad's got some serious rib bruises, and a nice gash on his head, but it's safe to say he dealt the most damage out of all of us. It's been two days since that fight and I'm still discovering bruises and cuts.
It wasn't a serious fight. We just tend to do that whenever we get drunk.
Also, later that night I woke up in the middle of sleepwalking outside a man's hotel room, in my underwear as he asked me "What the hell do you want?".
I had no answer for him.
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