So this is bit of a cop-out, and really more of a post appropriate for a personal blog, but I just can’t pass up this story.

May 2-4 weekend pretty much marks the beginning of summer. Either everyone goes camping, or somebody picks up 4 kegs and throws a bash. We went with the latter.

Cailin O’Neil was visiting from Halifax (amazing chick, we had an absolute blast together), as were 11 other guys and one of Matt’s friends. I mean, it was practically our duty to extend a warm Newfoundland welcome, and so we purchased our kegs from the Quidi Vidi Brewery.

We’ve never had so many people in our house before, the place was swarming. It was a great crowd though, no rowdiness or trouble-makers involved. But I guess we should have paid attention to the first warning sign that our neighbours were pissed, because some idiots from a few houses over were throwing rocks into our backyard as we were tapping the kegs.

First of all, throwing a keg party should be no big deal in our neighbourhood as I’m routinely woken at all hours of the night throughout the week by loud, drunken fools outside. You just kinda learn to deal with it.

I don’t remember what happened next, but this is how things unfolded.

People were getting ready to leave the house. One of the girls, very drunk, walked out onto the front step and stepped into a giant pile of poop. Human poop.

Then the 11 guys visiting from Halifax were leaving, and in the chaos ensuing from discovering human shit on our front step, the shit footprints tracked around the front of our house were inevitable.

Real conversation between Cailin and I, the morning after.

So while some people were trying to keep the shit from entering the house, and then trying to keep people from stepping in it outside, one roommate was crying and my other roommate and his buddies hatched a plan to start serial shitting on our neighbours’ steps. This poses problems because 1) we had no proof the neighbours did it 2) How does one shit on command?

I actually find the whole thing hysterical. We never did figure out who did it, but we spent most of Sunday hosing down our step. I could almost feel the eyes of the Serial Shitter on us as we cleaned up the mess, probably giggling with glee.

Lesson learned: no more keg parties while living in the ghetto.

Cailin and I, doing St. John's

Cailin will have a sweet travel video of her trip to Newfoundland up and running soon, it should be a blast. I sincerely apologize for having you drag my drunk ass all over downtown, Cailin. You’re welcome back any time!