Stating the obvious
Posted on | June 27, 2008 | 81 Comments
Oh man this made me laugh. There’s a group called MEAS (Mature Enjoyment of Alcohol in Society) who are obviously complete loons. Who wants to enjoy alcohol maturely? It kind of misses the whole point of booze which allows you to behave like a kid again.
Anyway, they’ve warned people of the dangers of drinking too much while on holidays. Which is very kind of them because we all want to go away to the sunshine and sip a glass or two of sherry instead of getting shit-faced and falling asleep on the beach. They’ve obviously given their advice a lot of thought. Like this:
Avoid risky situations, especially after a few drinks, like walking along a deserted cliff path at 2am.
Oooh, cheers for that MEAS. Any others? How about these?
Do not aggravate locals while in Turkey by singing about how gay their football team is.
Avoid climbing the Empire State Building using only sucker pads on your hands and feet.
If you can help it at all don’t try and French kiss poisonous snakes.
Fucking genius, it really is. I mean do people need to be told this? And if they do need to be told not to walk along a deserted cliff path at 2am, the most dangerous time of the night to walk along a deserted cliff path, then aren’t they stupid cunts anyway and if they fall over we can just write it off to natural selection?
Mixing drink with sports, from volleyball to rock climbing, can lead to injuries. So play it safe. Likewise, midnight swimming and drinking is never advisable.
Sorry, but swimming at night when drunk is the best thing ever. If you want to go swimming miles then fair enough, you take your life into your own hands when you lose sight of shore, but splashing about in your jocks in the warm Med waters is something everyone should do no matter how drunk they are. And who the fuck plays volleyball while drunk? Or decides they’ll go rock climbing? All I want is another drink. The inclination to scramble up the sheer face of a mountain has yet to hit me.
Check out this other great tip:
Bars abroad often serve larger measures of spirits than Irish pubs so just two gin and tonic measures could be the same as four or five at home.
OH NO! You mean instead of the scabby lick of gin they give you in your glass here they’ll free pour a very large gin and tonic for you and if you go ‘Awwwwww’ when you consider their measure a bit scabby they’ll pour more in and continue to do so for the duration of the holiday? Well that’s something to be avoided all right.
What fucking world are these MEAS people living in? When I read stuff like this it just makes me want to get drunk, walk along a cliff path, go swimming and all the stuff they say I shouldn’t do. Except rock climbing. That’s just shit.
So drunken holiday stories. Let’s have them.
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June 27th, 2008 @ 12:38 am
Curracloe sometime in the 80s (have to be deliberately vague here). A stolen keg of Carlsberg from the Strand Hotel. Three blokes, three women, mucho skinny dipping (probably after midnight, naughty us), but sadly little in the way of rock climbing or deserted clifftop paths. Few things in life are better than that. As an aside, over in Australia, the wowsers are trying to claim that drinking two beers constitutes binge-drinking. Cunts. Where I come from a binge lasts at least two days.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:43 am
My first holiday abroad with mates was a coach trip to Spain with seven other 17 year olds. We drank the coach dry by Paris and had to get the poor driver to stop off and get more beer. On the second night in our static caravan we all got so pissed we decided that the roof of the caravan would act as a rooftop terrace, perfect for entertaining on those balmy Spanish evenings.Only the owner of the caravan park didn’t see it that way (after we kept falling off it after too much San Miguel and the other caravanners kept complaining) and promptly hoofed us out. We spent the rest of the holiday under canvas/sleeping in fields. Still great though.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:52 am
I got drunk with this girl I met in a club on holiday. She could barely speak English. I could barely speak. She kept pointing at the toilets so I followed her to the Gent’s toilet where everything was going great until she vomited in the middle of a blowjob. I was up to my balls in hot chunky vomit. Then she vomited all over my shoes.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:57 am
midnight swimming and drinking is never advisable.
It’s a good job I get all my drunken swimming done before midnight then.
And where is the MEAS warning against drunken blowjobs? Fox could have avoided disaster if only he had been forewarned. Although, let’s face it; who is going to pass up a free blowjob, drunken or otherwise?
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:11 am
I was still underaged while on a family holiday in a guest house in Kerry. Myself and my older brother were getting on quite well with the young girl who worked behind the bar, where they served diluted cordial drinks in pint glasses for 5p. (It was the 70′s!) We persuaded her to top up all our drinks with vodka, and we spent the whole week completely pissed out of our heads.
One night we thought it would be a good idea to go horse-riding, regardless of the fact that neither of us had ever been on a horse before in our lives. Instead of getting a horse each, we thought it be a better idea to both get on the same one, so we went for the biggest one in the field.
As we approached, the horse just looked at us, not moving an inch. Then, just as we got close enough, the fucker swung around and kicked the two of us with his hind legs, sending us flying.
We spent the rest of the holiday at the bar. Shittest holiday ever!
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:23 am
i love that guinness ad where the end of the day sounds like tsssshhhh.then it tells me to drink responsibly.
emmmmmmm,if i have to end my day with the tsh of a can,you can bet your lucky cunt that i WON’T be tsh-ing responsibly.
i’ll be ripping open the next crate u fuck.and if you DARE recommend how i should drink one more time,i will find your old spit-slavered lips and glue them to cowens you come-covered flange.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:26 am
p.s.
can we not know what time you write your rants at anymore twenty?
i like knowing there’s a drunken mayhem gathering animal spitting bile up when i’m up.
it keeps me sane.(kinda)
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:46 am
Ahh, where to begin ?
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:54 am
Well…(settles in for a long evening of sharing)…
When I was 16 I had to stand behind a pot-plant in a bar in Torquay for 35 minutes while our home-economics teacher sat on a vodka and lemonade and chatted to the barman, who knew exactly where I was hiding. It was a school trip and we thought she’d gone to bed so we were all down in the bar. I’d gone to the loo and the other’s had scarpered when she came in. I came out of the Ladies and was trapped, frozen for a horrible half minute or so looking at her back in the half-deserted bar. Then I ducked behind the pot-plant and had to peer out like David Bellamy for 35 minutes, completely losing my lovely squidgy vodka bitters buzz and cursing my treacherous bladder.
Then on another school trip to Inverness (other schools got to go bloody ski-ing – we got Inverness with the chemistry class) we did the usual running about, traffic cones on statues type thing. But the next day we were visiting a distillery when my yellowish-grey hungover pal Dougie had to fall back and go behind a huge still to vomit. I don’t think they had chemistry trips any more after that.
There are a few more I can remember(ish) from post school-days holidays but the last foreign holiday I was on, I was in Dublin and had to be poured into my Harcourt St hotel room by the lovely fatmammycat and her patient paramour after a jolly evening in the town.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:58 am
PCB, foreign holiday- in Dublin, on Harcourt St.?
You drink too much!
June 27th, 2008 @ 2:00 am
I was once on a highly-drunken road trip in Latvia (of all places), after pithcing our tents by a lake on the second night we sat around a campfire getting shitfaced when suddenly we could hear what sounded like a kickin’ party from across the lake. By about 1am we were all twisted and very curious so we decided to steal two rowing boats and see what was going on over there. We loaded the boats up with booze and began to make our way across the lake. It didn’t seem very far when we left our campsite, but the lake turned out to be 2 miles wide and by the time we got to the other side, things were wrapping up. Which was probably just as well, considering it was more like a family get-together than an actual party, we weren’t exactly welcome… At around 4am we got back in our boats and began to row back when the thickest fog imaginable descended over the lake, making (already difficult) navigation completely impossible. An argument over which direction we should be rowing broke out with the rower of each boat adamant that their way was the right way. With no-one backing down the two boats were about to head off in different directions but not before one thick cunt said “no, I’m going with them” and tried to step over into our boat. He missed the boat and fell into the lake. That in itself was ok, but when the other 5 people on the boat all leaned over to pull him in, the boat turned over and sank. The other boat was no way big enough to fit us all in, so four of us ended up swimming back to shore alongside the boat. When we did get there, we were half fucking dead with hypothermia and no where near our campsite. It must have been a 3 mile trek through woodland before we finally found the campsite (at 11am) and could warm ourselves up. With cheap latvian vodka, of course.
June 27th, 2008 @ 3:35 am
H, that was brilliant!
June 27th, 2008 @ 3:45 am
Drink IS the Devils Piss
I went off it for a while
Discovered a whole new world
Diving .. mountainbiking ..kayaking
windsurfing .. but drinking is more fun
AND less hassle
still old man hangovers are tipping the balance
June 27th, 2008 @ 4:52 am
I wasn’t on holiday but at a dinner party and, just a little banjaxed, I set fire to the next door neighbour.I’m not sure if it was because he was in the middle of a really boring speech which was showing no signs of ending, he was wearing a cravat or because he was the then-prime minister’s son. Possibly a combination of all three.It made him stop talking, though.
June 27th, 2008 @ 4:59 am
Two MEAS tips that I can’t fathom;
Don’t let a female friend go home with someone they don’t know.
And;
Avoid drunken arguments.
C’mon MEAS. Which one is it going to be? You can’t have both.
June 27th, 2008 @ 6:37 am
Monkey Balls, well I do live in the US and come from Scotland! Whichever way you look at it, to me, Dublin’s in a furn country.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:20 am
I was 13 in Blankenberg in belgium on a school football trip. Needess to say all us kids got really drunk we broke into a go-cart compound – literally hundreds of go-carts. At 2am in the morning 20 go-carts were commandeered and we drove them round the streets – that is, until a german police VW campervan thing came blazing after us with sitrens going etc.
Two teachers picked us up from the cells at about 3.30 that morning. They weren’t happy. Needless to say we were not allowed out after that. Thankfully kids on the top floor of the hotel managed to block the sink the next night and flood the hotel
Kids are horrible aren’t they
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:20 am
Doesn’t wash PCB. On paper maybe, but no Irishman would call Scotland foreign, and vice-versa.
And we also own the US.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:23 am
Wow Sid, you were pretty committed to mayhem alright.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:25 am
I don’t know, MB, tell it to the jet lag.
I feel depressingly pedestrian. I don’t think I have a drunken mayhem story. Not a holiday one. My holidays have all been cultured and demure.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:30 am
I once did a puke on the beach in Rush that was coloured orange by Southern Comfort. It was so jelly-like that it had a wall about 1 cm around the edge. Also, the tide came and went, but the puke stayed in place, like a beached jellyfish.
I was so proud.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:32 am
Sid, what were the German police doing in Belgium?
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:35 am
It was a German VW van.
Sid, you owe me a fiver.
June 27th, 2008 @ 9:58 am
Bit of a slow start this morning, as everyone types out their 500+ words essays……
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:03 am
MB, how’s this…?
one time, holliers, pissed, gas craic
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:07 am
“One time”? You didn’t have to say “One time”.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:09 am
Other warnings that MEAS should issue….
“Be careful when playing cards, smoking dope and drinking on Shannon River Cruisers – always make sure someone is driving the boat”
“Never mix drink with popping class A pills and driving your sisters car in a very snow covered Donegal at 5am with two young ladies in the back”
“Don’t drink until 8.30 am in the morning on Oxford Street in Sydney and go straight to work with a line of speed up your nose”
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:12 am
Thanks, MB. Was getting confused there…
In continuation to my previous comment: Later that day we went to a beachside town called Kolka and tried to find somewhere to stay, but to not avail (hotels aren’t that common in rural Latvia). Eventually we found a place that was either a) a boarding school b) a convent or c) a halfway house for delinquent teenage girls. To this day, I still don’t know… Anyway, we managed to persaude the woman in charge of the place to let us stay there that night and it wasn’t long before we were sitting out the back supping on a few cans with the regular habitants of this place. What was meant to be a couple of quiet drinks before heading off to sleep (we were, after all, fucked from all that swimming)turned into another major session after it became apparent that a few of the girls were mad for it. The language barrier was a bit of a problem (they hadn’t got a word of English) but it didn’t stop us from plying them with vokda then bringing them down to the beach for sex at 5am. After that we drove the van into town (insanely drunk, but hey, they fucking do it on our roads) to get more vodka and some cheap red bull rip-off drinks. When we got back the woman in charge of the place we were staying had woken up and realised that 4 of the girls were missing and she went fucking ballistic. She (litetrally) threw our stuff out the windows of the house and told us to “Fuck off, you godless, foreign sons-of-bitches!”…
…At least that what it sounded like.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:15 am
Your web page is a pain in the bollocks!
The old layout was a fucking annoyance most of the time.You couldnt read most of the comments as the blog post ran down through the middle of it and now its just a big blank page until you scroll down a heap.
What the fuck?
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:19 am
‘Don’t sit on the Muni in San Francisco travelling in and out of the city for hours with a big name badge on because you’ve been to the opening of the new, roomier buyer’s club and you’re stoned off your mush’
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:20 am
I got raped by an Arab. Not on holidays and not drunk. I just needed to share.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:29 am
Oh and there was the time my mates and I were staying in a caravan in Wexford. We were about 14/15. We had about three cans of Steiger and we were plastered.
We found a fully dressed mannequin in one of the neighbours caravans (It was for the camp site play the next night). It was a female dressed in a bright red and yellow dress and a big straw hat.
So we hid in the bushes at the side of the road sniggering like fuck and nearly getting sick. It was about 11pm.
Along comes a car from around the bend, out with the mannequin through the air, blam off the bonnet over the roof and onto the ground. Car screeches to a halt, driver opens his door and looks back horrified, mutters something in fear and fucks off!! the bastard.
So we picked it up and brought it back to the caravan, a bit worse for wear and hanging together.
The next night, we were all at the camp site play, had totally forgotten about the mannequin until we recognised the guy from the car in the audience. You can imagine his reaction on seeing his victim on stage.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:29 am
Pattherat, (and anyone else who’s browser doesn’t display this blog properly), download and install Firefox.
It’s better, safer, faster and has more features than Internet Explorer. You’ll be glad when you do it.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:31 am
“do not get every teenager on your housing estate to take acid at a cider party while skinny dipping (with a little orgy action) at the town swimming pool when your parents decide to visit because while you end up mentally scared after the worst trip *ever* your parents DON’T EVEN NOTICE THE MAYHEM”
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:32 am
Did I mention that it was free? And customisable? And that IE has been playing ‘catch-up’ with it for years?
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:36 am
As the geeks would say… +1 for firefox
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:38 am
Ah acid, it’s like a mini-holiday in itself, even if you’re only in your own back garden!
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:40 am
Acid and a bit of carpet. Or wallpaper.
I want some!
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:45 am
I had to stop taking acid after the time i thought my friend was satan and my dad was god. I came into the kitchen bollock naked and asked ‘god’ where were the crack whores he had promised me. He’s never looked at me the same since…
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:45 am
“Acid and a bit of carpet. Or wallpaper.”
There’s an idea MB. A little wrap with some acid and a swatch of Navan carpets in it. A sort of trip on the go or a trip for your trip kind of thing. Let’s do it!!
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:48 am
Jo – I wasn’t the ringleader alas
MB – why do I owe you a fiver?
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:52 am
H! That lake story is great. And that fucking idiot changing boats as if you guys had a better chance! Wasn’t you was it?
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:53 am
Ah Harcourt Street, scene to many a wibbly wobbly wench. It was the fresh air that did it Sam, not the delicious hooch. Never the hooch.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:54 am
Sid, I got you out of a tight spot there with your made-up story. Unless you and your mates drove those go-carts quite some distance, or you’re a WWII veteran, I doubt there were German Police in Belgium.
I’m charging you a tenner for making me explain it.
June 27th, 2008 @ 10:58 am
I got sick by the side of my bed one night, didn’t remember it, got up in the morning and stepped in it bare foot of course. Cold sick is worse to step in.
In other sick news… i once opened my window and puked from four stories up onto the clothes line below.
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:01 am
Monkey Balls – its true, anyway if I have to explain then you owe me twenty. Anyway they were Belgian police and they drove a German vehicle. Is that so odd? Happened late 70s
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:04 am
Are you sure it wasn’t an Italian Fiat, a French Citroen, or a Japanese Toyota?
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:06 am
No. I was one of the poor saps that had to swim over a mile, however. Lucky to have survived really, I’m not that great a swimmer when sober, don’t ask me how I did it after 10+ pints!
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:09 am
Wait a minute Sid. It’s all getting clearer now.
We all know the Belgians hate the French, and vice-versa. What better way to get one up on the Frogs than to drive a German-registered van into France. You could demand anything you wanted, and it would be ‘surrendered’ up to you.
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:12 am
You were dead lucky H. That was on edge stuff, could have slipped away like Leonardo Di Caprio in Titanic.
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:13 am
MB are you mad goddamit. They were Belgian police driving a german vehicle …. oh, wait a minute, you’re right, never thought of that, bloody frenchies, and germans and belgiansd and polish and lithaunian and greek and spanish and norwegian and dutch and finnish and maltese … you have a point
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:22 am
Jo, are you there?
Has me monkey got a mickey yet?
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:23 am
a mac or safari will solve the problem also..
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:25 am
Jesus, that dog is back.
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:25 am
Tricia, are you a Graphics Artist by any chance?
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:25 am
Not you Tricia, I mean, oh never mind..
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:26 am
Holemaster, apologise immediately to Tricia.
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:46 am
Yes, MB, I can see your monkey mickey.
Sigh.
I’ll say no more, I’m afraid Holemaster will abuse me ;)
June 27th, 2008 @ 11:57 am
once went to a party in an apartment near patscathedral. On the way there, we noticed a bottle of gin that some bum/teenager had hidden behind a rock. Complete cunts that we are, we took it (it hadn’t been opened yet). Can’t handle gin at the best of times, and mixing it with various other narcotics ended up with me on all fours on the apartment’s balcony vomiting. Best part was that the floor of the balcony was a steel grate type thing, so i vomited not only on the balcony i was on, but on the three balconies directly below me, in a kind of multi-layered vomit sieve.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:07 pm
Yes more drunk stories please.
Cycling while drunk is great fun.
Did you know that you can banned from driving if caught drunk cycling?
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:10 pm
“I’ll say no more, I’m afraid Holemaster will abuse me ;)”
You’re safe Jo. I only abuse myself.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:21 pm
HM – Does the dog want you to follow it to the well……
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:30 pm
Yes he does, I’m not fucking going though, it’s a trap.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:32 pm
bubblegumandabottleofbovril
Scuse me. Had a Rogan Josh last night.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:35 pm
Damn, all these stories are making me nostalgic. Nothing better than being young, pissed & up for divilment.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:35 pm
Responsible Adulthood is completely gay
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:43 pm
Nothing wrong with a bit of self abuse.
I’m a very wobbly cyclist, but the only time I cycled drunk, I was brilliant, brave, and speedy. So I’d recommend it.
I didn’t know about the driving ban though, interesting. My husband is annoyed on behalf of drivers who cycle – why do those who cycle drunk but have no licence jsut get a fine, while drivers who cycle to the pub so as not to drive drunk get a far harsher penalty purely because they have licences.
I suppose he’s speaking as a driver who cylcles to the pub…
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:44 pm
I don’t know. Responsible adulthood is sad, it’s true, but the thought of still acting like a binging, obnoxious drunken teen leaves me cold as well.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:48 pm
“I suppose he’s speaking as a driver who cylcles to the pub…”
Well here’s a story about that. My friend who lives about three miles from his pub in the miggle of nowhere was standing having a piss on a ditch with his bike lying on the roadside when his friend came by in his car and drove over it.
So, it’s better if we all cycle pissed.
June 27th, 2008 @ 12:58 pm
It seems to be the pissing while cycling that was the problem in that case, as oppsed to the cycling pissed.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:10 pm
I have to be a bit vague here, to protect the guilty party, OK?
I ‘know this guy who‘ was out looking for mischief with a few mates in a local industrial estate. We, I mean they, found a warehouse that must’ve been used to store beer, because they found loads of 6-packs with one or two bottles missing, presumably broken, lying outside.
Pissed out of
ourtheir heads on 4 & 5-packs, the boys began their wobbly journey home.On the way, they found a factory with huge 4′x4′ boxes of rubber stored outside.
IThey thought it would be a good idea to see if it might burn, so they had a go at lighting it. A tiny flame danced on top of one of the boxes. It looked cool, but they got bored with it quickly and went home.As they arrived back nearer home, they met up with the father of the naughty
monkeyboy who had lit the little fire.“Jump in the car lads!”, he called, “we’ll go over and see what’s happening.” He was pointing back towards where the boys had come from.
There was an orange glow in the sky, and loads of thick black smoke.
The father never understood why all of the boys showed such reluctance to go with him.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:12 pm
That story makes the MEAS guidelines seem more reasonable.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:19 pm
Yeah Jo, the father was way out of order there. Imagine driving your car full of pissed 14yr olds towards an orange glow in the sky.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:54 pm
hmmm. check link, i think twenty’s at the centre of some vast, brewing federation-related conspiracy being uncovered.
June 27th, 2008 @ 1:57 pm
twenty, we’re getting bored – chuck another story in will ya
June 27th, 2008 @ 2:24 pm
On our first trip away with the lads in west Cork as a bunch of naive 15yr olds, we got loaded on gone off budweiser. Maybe it wasn’t gone off but bud is always pissy tasting i suppose. We were also very very stoned.
Anyway while walking across a golf course we thought a ghost was following us, so naturally we all took off running, scared stupid.
Turned out it was a local girl interested in the city lads. She was wearing a long flowing coat in the middle of a warm summer nite which took a ghostly appearance after the booze.
We threw stones at her to make her go away…
Maybe its funnier in my head.
Oh and one of the lads burned down a hotel at the golf course
June 27th, 2008 @ 2:38 pm
“Yeah Jo, the father was way out of order there. Imagine driving your car full of pissed 14yr olds towards an orange glow in the sky.”
Dads WILL be boys!
June 27th, 2008 @ 2:52 pm
at a stag in hamburg.9 in the morning after a day and night of heavy boozing and serious substance abuse we went to a family concert at this big warehouse type thing by the river.saw a sandpit outside and we decided to commandeer it.the boys bought buckets and spades and were making castles and stuff.they even bought some plants to make it look nice.couldn’t figure out why the locals were staring and pointing so much.turned out it was for dogs to “do their business in”.then some german goths walked by and got jealous of our nicely designed shit pit and started a fight over it.
drugs are fun.
June 27th, 2008 @ 4:39 pm
Mr. M took me to San Francisco during the LA riots in ’92 as a result of the Rodney King verdict. We drank in dodgy pubs in the Mission District with a friend of mine who was living there and talked about which posh boutiques we were going to loot. There were riots in SF as well, so the mayor issued a curfew at dusk. I said fuck that, we’re on holiday, so we wandered the empty streets getting shitfaced and checking out the damage.
Fun times.
June 27th, 2008 @ 5:18 pm
hah, danger holidays. Imagine a dusk curfew, that’s mad.
June 28th, 2008 @ 8:01 am
Drunken Holiday Tales?
i was in Ibiza last year for a week
i was staying in a hotel that had 37 steps leading up to it
Naturally we went on the piss as soon as we got there
Eight hours later i managed to reach the top of the steps
Then i stumbled
Fell down all the steps and broke my leg
i was off work for eight weeks
Best holiday ever!!!!!!!!!!!!