To the RAWKish Hordes who're coming with me - I can't be arsed to actually send off PMs to each one of you, but you know who you are - the tickets are in hand. Since I also cannot be arsed to account for each and every one of you, please don't offer to pay for them until you actually show up. There will be a pitcher on the kichen table to accept donations. Any spares will be sold the day of.
Also don't plan on bringing food or booze. There will be plenty to go around. I hate being stuck with someone else's shit food and cheap beer. Just bring more cash to throw onto the pile. I'll be supplying delicious wine, tequila blanco, and strong microbrew to wash down barbequed chicken wings, hamburgers, and carne asada fajitas. There's a good chance that a bone-in cowboy ribeye makes the grill too.
Celebrations will begin in the morning just as soon as Adam - the only one apart from jambutty who gets to stay over - wakes up hungover on my couch. We'll be leaving the house after lunch on a rowdy march to Fenway. Even if you already have tickets and plans, you're welcome to join in, but my responsibility for you ends the second we step outside my gaff. I'm not bailing anyone out of jail, taking care of anyone who cannot hold their alcohol, or nursing anyone around Corkboy's Seat.