St. Cyril's Day - March 18 - The Day afterI am still holding out hope that the above sentiment is true. Consider this an APB-whereabouts unknown for the Truth, justice and the American Way. (Mainly just the Truth, really.)

I arrived at Byrnespatch Pub around 8:30 last night. As I wandered through what would normally be their parking lot (but on this Monday evening had been transformed into the Varsity Club dyed green and under a tent) searching for Art McGregor, the first person I saw who I knew was Johnnie K. We exchanged greeetings, talked about The 1's hatred of St. Patrick's Day, and Springsteen. After the three minute exchange, he said there were too many good looking chicks there for us to be talking to each other and bid me adeiu. You gotta love that guy.

When I finally stumbled upon AMG, three things became immediately obvious: he was wearing a hat, he was with "work people" and the Truth was bombed. I tried on his hat, mingled with the work people, and was greeted with the traditional Irish-Truth greeting: "Wanna do a shot?"

Have to say, the work guy was really cool, and his wife, despite being from Buffalo, was awesome. She would later say to AMG that, "she wants to hangout with [The Godfather] more because he's really funny." (If she thinks I was funny yesterday, just wait until she meets McGinley next week and hears the same "original" jokes all over again!)

Apparently the Truth signed up on Facebook.com yesterday and was already getting a ton of new friend requests. Every few minutes he'd pull out his blackberry and show us all the e-mails he had gotten. The overwhelming response led him to declare that he was poised to blow up the Internet by knowing everyone on the social networking site. Hopefully you'll be able to read this post before the explosion. He also wanted to do a shot, and wanted us to do a shot with him and said, a couple of times, "Wanna do a shot?"

Somewhere along the line the chain of custody of the Truth between The Godfather and Art McGregor and Mr. and Mrs. Hoodie was broken.

"Where's the Truth?," I asked the Hoodies.

"We thought he was with you," they answered.

"I thought he was with you!," I said.

After a furious seach of Byrne's Pub a few more beers and an Irish Jig, AMG and I accepted that the heavily inebriated, completely indignant with anyone who wouldn't do a shot, recently joined to facebook.com, artist formerly known as the Truth had disappeared into the abyss.

As the night was finally winding down, I ate the hottest piece of pizza ever, burning my mouth with every bite, and declared the slice of pie a, "prelude to a baconator." We then left Grandview behind for the cozy comforts of the Village, which included a large frygitty, a small friggity, and a large spriggity for Art, and a Number 4 (yes, the Baconator!) for the Godfather. As I was dozing off into la-la land, I texted AMG, "RIP the Truth." His reply? "80/20 he's still alive."

I'll take those odds.

-The Godfather