custoMONDAY: Win a St. Patrick’s Dia De Los Dunny by Phoebe Marie

Mon, Mar 2, 2009

About Phoebe Marie

Phoebe Marie is a midwest-dwelling artist who caught ToyCyte’s attention for her incredibly detailed Dia De Los Dunny custom series. Since then, we’ve gotten to know her for other toys, collage work, jewelery and being a very funny, extremely prolific persona (her bevy of personal blogs includes daily feet and the 366 Days project). I can only imagine that Phoebe’s keyboard is covered in glitter. You can follow her visually on Flickr. While you’re there, check out the enchanting St. Patrick’s Dia De Los Dunny series Phoebe made just for ToyCyte, which includes 6 custom figures perfect for your holiday celebration. Five will be available in the ToyCyte Shop shortly. But Phoebe and ToyCyte want to give you one for free. Read on to hear why Phoebe digs Day of the Dead, a thesis on how leprechauns might just be gay and probably the first and last mention of payot on ToyCyte.

The Contest

We at ToyCyte would never encourage you to get drunk and act stupid. However, if you’ve done so in the past, you could win a Dunny customized by Phoebe Marie for telling us about it. Phoebe can really tie one on, so try not to be intimidated by her tolerance. Please post your best St. Patrick’s Day story in the comments section by March 11th at midnight PST. (We’re cutting this one off a little early so that we can guarantee you’ll get your prize by St. Patrick’s Day.) The contest is open to anyone, anywhere in the world. If you have already won a custoMONDAY in 2009, please feel free to share your creativity, but you are, regrettably, not eligible for the prize. Here’s what you’re competing with, quoth Phoebe:

I think that whoever wins the giveaway has to either BEAT or at least come close to beating my most horrible St. Patty’s Day drunk-a-thon. A few years ago, I was out until the bars closed at 2:30am the night before St. Patty’s, to see The Boys from the County Hell (my boyfriend’s Pogues cover band). We then got up at 5:30am on St. Pat’s Day to be at another bar by 6am for them to play another show. From there we drove across town at 9am for a pre-parade show at the House of Blues. Then we walked down the street to an Irish bar for another one at noon. There was a bit of a break around 3 and then they played a second show at the same bar at 5pm. We then drove further across town for the final show of the evening from 9pm to 2am at another Irish bar. The day AFTER St. Patrick’s Day, there was a final show at 4pm (at least we had most of the day to sleep it off). But all in all, it boiled down to 7 shows in 48 hours. Seven shows, five corned beef sandwiches, countless beers and shots of whiskey, and one big fat miserable hangover.

(Phoebe Marie custoMONDAY Giveaway also shown above in closeup)

The Interview

What is it about Day of the Dead and Phoebe Marie?

You gotta know that I have been dreading this question since the very first Day of the Dead Munny I made for Shoparooni’s Easter Munny Show last year. I mean, it’s not just the obvious: old punk kid + stuff with skulls = likey likey. It is more than just a fascination with death and the celebration thereof – it’s something in the brightness and the beauty of it all. I am madly in love with Sylvia Ji, and the gorgeous way she does the Day of the Dead thing. As my obsession grew, I knew that if I was going to go there it had to be quirkier, sillier: I’m not fancy like that.

(Phoebe Marie: Day of the Dead Dunny Series)

Here is where this gets embarrassing… not that I haven’t let way more embarrassing things rip on ToyCyte in the past (terrible pun fully intended), so I will have to spill this as well. [Ed Note: Phoebe is referring to her winning entry into the Free Gas For Life from Touma contest here]. Two years ago, while visiting my parents in Florida, I insisted upon being taken to Epcot Center. I remembered going there when I was nine years old… and nothing could have made my little pre-pubescent heart flutter more than the opportunity to go shopping in eleven different countries in a single afternoon. So there I was now in my thirties, in the fake, Disney Mexico, buying armloads of overpriced, teeny-tiny Day of the Dead shrines. Like an idiot. Most of it is still in my studio.

The Day of the Dead toy thing literally began the night before the Easter Munny Show. I had completed the Rancid Mini Munny series. And I still had this 8” Munny hanging around. I wanted to do something else. I looked up at the window sill. And there was one of my silly Epcot Center purchases looking back at me. He was white and round and really, not terribly different in shape and proportion from the Munny on my desk. And, really, that was that.

(Phoebe Marie for Shoparooni Easter Munny Show)

Tell us about the inspiration for your custoMONDAY piece and ToyCyte exclusive series?

I live in Cleveland. In this town, on St. Patty’s Day, even if you’re not Irish – you are. I take the day off work every year (though a few years ago, when I worked for an Irish-owned moving company I didn’t have to – it was a paid holiday!). My boyfriend plays in an incredible Pogues cover band, The Boys from the County Hell, and I tend to spend the entire week of St. Patty’s following them from gig to gig. I just can’t help but love a holiday and a city where being at a bar at 6am is not just accepted, it’s EXPECTED! Anyhow, I always have such a good time on St. Patty’s Day. And when you told me my custoMONDAY would be the first week of March – it only made sense to follow my Halloween Day of the Dead Dunny series with a St. Pat’s series. The timing was too good and 3 inch tall, dead, drunken leprechauns were just too amazing to pass up.

(Phoebe Marie x ToyCyte Day of the Dead St. Patricks Day Series)

You’re very open about your all-over-the-place heritage. Because of that, I’m going to ask you now to pontificate on if/how you think art toys are diversifying the fine art world?

It’s true. I am sort of fascinated with my heritage, which is funny, since it’s the same sort of mutt-mix thing that so many Americans today have going on. Swedish, German, English, yadda-yadda. (Funny, though, that that list does not include Irish or Latino at all. Ha!) As for if and how art toys are diversifying the fine art world… wow, man. I really don’t know if I have a good answer for that one. I mean, there definitely seem to be toy artists from all different backgrounds, ethnicities, countries, etc. But really, there have been fine artists from all different backgrounds, ethnicities, countries, etc., too. Like, forever. I can’t say that I feel like the toy world is any different. Maybe it lets us blur the lines of our own individual heritages somewhat. I mean, I’m not Mexican, yet I make toys based on Mexican folk art. Huck Gee isn’t Asian, yet he has risen to fame making toys inspired by Japanese pop culture. But honestly, I still don’t think it matters who you are or where you’re from. The art world has always been and will always be diverse.

(Phoebe Marie: American Gothic)

You and I have previously discussed my Jewfro. If you were to do a Day of the Dead x Long Island Jewish Culture Dunny series, please explain how you would accessorize.

Wow. Well, you know it’s been a long time since my college days spent immersed in Long Island Jewish culture. But I have told you of my affinity for the Jewfro. So that would definitely be making an appearance. I also would insist on including those little snappy clips that I remember seeing dudes using to keep their yarmulkes on. There is something so charming about that. Might have to throw in a Hasid, too, or at least have one fella in the series rocking the payot. Clearly, I would also have to challenge my miniature whittling skills, and make an itty-bitty dreidel and then possibly braid some pipe cleaners into a challah? I suppose most of that is pretty traditional. And really, more of what I remember from my days at Long Island University is snotty rich girls in huge sun glasses with bad Louis Vuitton bags and matching coral lipstick and nail polish bitching to each other about what a whore Moriah was being in Queens last night. And if I tried to make a Dunny out of that, people would just think it was Paris Hilton or something.

(Phoebe Marie: Halloween Series)

Ha! Is there truth to the rumor (I just started) that St. Patrick’s Day Dunny 4A is actually related to Michael Lau’s Brian and Mike Mignola’s Hellboy?

Hilarious! I can definitely see something of a resemblance, but as I was making the little brawler, there, I had more of a Jay Bastard thing in mind. If he were related to anyone, it’d be Big Jay. But that actually brings up an interesting point, made by my boyfriend, while I was working on my little Mexican Irishmen. That point was: all leprechauns are gay. “Why?” I asked. “Well, because you never see a female leprechaun. And they’re all happy and are all about rainbows.” So, if the point he made is true, leprechauns can’t really be related to anyone, because they’re not breeders. Um… right? Wait, what happened?

(Phoebe Marie's St. Patrick's Day Series - available for purchase)

What’s next on the horizon?

At this very moment I am mostly concentrating on getting some of my collage work together for a joint show at Low Life Gallery in April and an as yet unscheduled solo show at Brandt Gallery sometime thereafter. There has been a passing mention of a possible all Day of the Dead themed stuff solo show in the Shoparooni Annex at some point. Not sure when that would happen. As for toys – right now I’m catching up on various customs I owe people. I’m super excited and honored to have received a request from amazing tattoo artist Tokyo Hiro for a custom Munny of himself! Plus the 2nd Shoparooni Easter Munny show is just around the corner. I’m STILL toying with some original sculpt stuff. And I am otherwise going completely bananas.

(Phoebe Marie's St. Patrick's Day Series - available for purchase)

custom, custoMONDAY, dunny, Phoebe Marie

This post was written by:

Jeremy Brautman - who has written 1965 posts on ToyCyte: Toy Culture Collected.

Jeremy Brautman joined ToyCyte in 2008 and has been writing about toy culture ever since. You can currently find him contributing to a variety of blogs, artkiving doodles at Doodlesplatter.com and cataloging artistic ephemera at ARTkivers.com.

Contact the author

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20 Comments For This Post

phoebemarie Says:
March 2nd, 2009 at 7:18 pm

eeep! awesome, as always! thank you, jeremy!!!
xxo, phoebe marie

Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 2nd, 2009 at 9:12 pm

What’s with the slow responses? Are people sober? Are people too drunk to write? Show some spirit!

Rsinart Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 12:17 am

Hmm looking good, I don’t drink so I don’t have any stories, but anything in the spirit of Día de los Muertos is awesome. Hope someone hop’s on this contest, if not just send it my way lol. Good luck.

Lacey Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 4:47 am

I’ve got an embarrassing St. Patty’s Day story. Don’t know if it will be the best one ever but I’m still mortified.

A few years back I started seeing a new guy. I was truly bananas about him. On St. Patrick’s Day we REALLY tied one on. He suggested we go back to his house but on the ride, all the beers, shots, and margaritas caught up with me. It took EVERY ounce of strength I had NOT to wet my drawers.

We get back to his place and I race into the bathroom. Sadly, I’m wearing a belt that tied and I COULDN’T GET IT UNDONE!!! I was shaking like crazy, trying to hold it in, and working on this belt when FINALLY I got the knot undone! I breathed a sigh of relief and pissed like a race horse. I had never been happier in my entire life.

Until I realized that I pulled my PANTS down but NOT my underwear.

So I had just pissed 5 hours of alcohol all over my panties at my new dude’s house…and died a little inside.

HAPPY ST. PATTY’S DAY!

Mum Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:11 am

Cleveland may have the LONGEST St. Patty’s Day celebration in the states, but Boulder (Colorado) claims the WORLD’S SHORTEST St. Patrick’s Day Parade – a quick 2 blocks, then everyone is primed to celebrate at Connor O’Neill’s all decked out in their leprechaun-wear!

I feel lucky as a leprechaun – I just caused a turn-around for our sad economy by buying Phoebe Marie’s St. Patty’s Day of the Dead Dunny. For the price of a meal out I gained a POT of GOLD at the END of a RAINBOW! Phoebe Marie is awesome! Even if she wasn’t my kid …

Pepe Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 10:16 pm

Sometimes you drink so much beer and Mountain Dew that you have to take a leak so badly all of your organs including your brain hurt. The worst part is when you are in public when this happens or no restrooms are vacant. It is even worse when you are finally standing at a communal trough and despite what your brain knows, your body just won’t produce. So on both sides of you, it’s basically Niagara Falls. And your bladder is The Sahara. This doesn’t really have to do with Saint Patricks Day but it could. I like these figures.

Mandy Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 8:05 am

One St. Patty’s Day after one too many green beers and a couple of shots, we went back to a friends house to continue the celebration. My friend lived in an old rent house that most of us had lived in or crashed in since graduating high school. I’d been there many times and it was no secret that I admired the 50’s style black and white checkered kitchen floor. Only this night I admired it a little too much. After I shot I was feeling a little dizzy, so I sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor…then I was feeling hot and dizzy so I laid down on the kitchen floor. It felt so cool on my hot little cheek that I stayed there, then much to my now sober embarrassment I began to pet the floor and tell it how much I loved it. Eventually the after party was dieing out and I was still on the floor, my friend was trying to get me up and out and home..but I refused to leave without the floor. I woke up the next morning on my beloved checkered floor only vaguely recalling my refusal to leave it.

daisy Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 8:27 am

well, seeing as i’m a real mickie-mick, and we don’t really “do” st. patty’s as well as the americans (i’ll give you that, kids!!), i am going to make up a story. see, usually on 17 march, i observe evacuation day, which is a lovely excuse for boston public officals to get a day off of work, or detox with a nice colonic. or i go to mass. or i go out after the sun has fallen, which translates into me being the only person left with any money, not to mention any wits. so, after all that joyous banter, here is my faux tale. call oscar:
one lovely, windy, sleeting mid-march morning, my lovely husband and meself traversed on down to the joy of poor brigid’s misery church to celebrate the day of our beloved patron saint, patrick. after three hours of chanting and guilt, i decided that i needed a pint. i promised my ever-so-gracious husband that i would be back before the supper hour. whoops. day turned to evening, and evening turned to ebon, and my poor manbride could find me nowhere. DONGDONG went the midnight bells, and ‘oh feck,’said i. i rose out of my perch and collapse like the economy. draggin myself out the door like a too-long family guy skit, i hail a taxi from the queue. i give him my address, and it’s rather fortunate that i was as drunk as i was, for i truly believe i may have been rambling in farsi, all to my taximan’s native delight. he drops me off at the next door neighbour’s house, as i have given him the wrong address (of course), and i pour myself onto the pavement. keys are nowhere; even the one hidden in our cleverly placed mystery rock is a no-go. finally i end up falling through the doorway, apologising like an apologist and cursing like a blinking computer icon. i try to hoist myself up and triumph over the stairs, but to no avail. finally, my humble matrimoner stares at me and mutters, “i can’t believe you’ve gone and lost your feckin’ wheelchair again.”

Camevil Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 9:40 am

The best St. Paddy’s day I had was about 5 years ago. I am a ghosthunter (make that a skeptic ghost hunter) in my spare time and run a website on my research (www.deadohio.com). I was invited by the owners of Warehouse on the Canal in Canal Fulton to come to a special St. Pat’s paranormal dinner and ghost hunt. Why ghost hunt on St. Paddy’s day? Well, the warehouse was built next to a canal. Back in those days, canals were built with the blood of Irishmen, who died violently or from sickness they suffered due to poor working conditions. They say for every mile of canal in Ohio, an Irishman lies buried. And if the Irish canal diggers’ ghosts are going to make an appearance, what better day than St. Pat’s?

Right.

So we went to the dinner and were served wonderful, albeit non-Irish fare (it was Cuban) and given several free glasses of hurricanes. After all, its better to see spirits if you have some spirits in ya.

The owners led us to the basement that used to serve as the morgue. They cheesed up the place with unnecessary props like a fake coffin and gothic candelabras. *oooooooo*

A psychic passed out divining rods and other questionable ghost hunting tools. We had a grand time watching the patrons drunkenly pacing the dark basement, accidentally poking each other with the dowsing rods and going into hysterics when their EMF (electro mag. frequency) readers lit up near the circuit breaker boxes, thinking they found a ghost!

Needless to say, no ghosts made themselves known to us. I’m pretty sure, though, they appreciated the drunken antics done in their honor.

Mariah Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 9:42 am

st. pattys snuck up on me one year, and i found i didn’t have a single green garment in my closet. i headed down to the local buy/sell/trade store (buffalo exchange) to sniff something out to avoid any unneeded pinching, and ultimately; ass slapping. just up the street though, was a place i was used to frequenting, and was open at 11am aready. i figured “what the feck. i could have a glass, and then go shopping -a la buzz style!”

i get to the bar, to discover the libations are already flowing, and the party’s already begun. 2 beers, 1 shot and an HOUR later, i tottle to the exchange and buy not only a green shirt, but a green feathered boa, a glittering green bowler, and a green fake hair moustache. i also reek of hootch, so all the staff at the place were giving me the harry eyeball as i had been entering and exiting the dressing rooms in various stages of dress and miss-dress: thing like green dresses from the 70’s that were reminiscent of mrs. roeper. green hooker heels, and of course the green feather boa, and the glittering green bowler hat.

by the time i’d made my purchases and waved goodbye to the poor staff who no doubt called the authorities to make certain to monitor my saunter home -mostly to be sure i wouldn’t be getting behind the wheel of any cars, as i was clearly housed…. the party back at the bar was on full-swing. at 1 in the afternoon.

the afternoon went forward with many drinks, me stealing some dude’s pants -him resorting to wearing an apron (underwear-less) when i wouldn’t return them, the obligatory passing around of the feather boa, and glittering bowler, shots, pints, and then apparently me falling off the bar while trying to do a shot on the bar.

i honestly don’t recall what all occurred, since all i woke up with was part of my soul missing, a shirt that was ripped to shreds, my underwear not ONLY backwards, but also inside out, and the words “I found the pot of gold” written on my butt cheek in green magic marker with a phone number beneath it.

Kingtycoon Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 12:49 pm

St. Patricks day? Who’s even catholic? My favorite one was that time we drove the snakes from Ireland.

The Blot Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 1:54 pm

I wish I could remember a good St. Patrick’s Day story to share, but I’m always too drunk to remember! HAHA

Awesome customs! Thanks for the contest.

brandxcomix Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 7:17 am

These are awesome on so many levels because I’m part Mexican and part Irish, so St. Patrick’s and Dia de los Muertos are pretty exciting for me. My story is mostly based on anecdotes from my friends because I really don’t remember it. A friend of mine had died a few days prior in a motorcycle accident, so I went out and got completely smashed and early in the night my friends and I stopped by a 7-11 to get some munchies and some Mickey’s, at which point I apparently decided to steal their entire supply of chocolate flavored Trojans. I proceeded to go to a large bronze statue of a bear where I decided to bury the condoms in memoriam of my deceased friends because “it’s what he would have wanted.” During my trip to and from the statue, I fell down a lot, as I had a mess of bruises on my arms and legs the next day. Rather than take me home like responsible friends, it was decided that we all go to a nearby party. When the hosts of the party went out on a beer run, I ordered a fifth of Jameson, which I ended up drinking straight from the bottle (a terrible waste, I know). A few minutes later, my decided that I had finally had too much to drink and decided that the best way to dispose of the excess was to projectile vomit all over a gaggle of sorority girls and wander off into the basement of the house. All of this I have only the vaguest memories of now, but cut to the next morning. I wake up face down in the basement of a strange house soaked in the sweet aroma of malt liquor, Irish whiskey, and hydrochloric acid with my limbs covered in bruises. Dazed, hungover, and smelling like a hobo convention, I walked 2 miles back to my house where I took a clothes on shower and went to class.

Jessica Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 10:40 am

Love these customs, Phoebe Marie! I have many drunken debaucherous stories, but alas, none that occurred on St. Patty’s Day.

Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 10:48 am

Jessica–post anyway! Ultimately Phoebe is the judge on this one, but the staff of ToyCyte loves reading the stories of drunken debauchery, regardless of when they occurred!

angeLOseasons Says:
March 9th, 2009 at 9:49 pm

I would like to start off by saying that Pheobe Marie’s St. Patrick’s Dia De Los Dunny series looks absolutely mind blowing. Now onto my St. Paddy’s day story for you folks to enjoy, please keep in mind I was not even 21 at the time so here is some under age drinking for ya! haha.

It was one of the great days that I looked forward to all year, St. Patrick’s day March 17th. However, like many others around the world my St. Paddy’s day began 4 hours earlier than the actual day. It was Sunday night and I sat at a round table with 7 of my closest friends in my parent’s garage, who had by now reached the casino they had been planning to visit all week. Sitting in front of us were 7 lucky bottles of Remy Martin VSOP and yes you guessed it 2 dozen Irish Car Bombs. Knowing that all of the alcohol could not be consumed I took it upon myself to invite a few more friends over to pre-game with us. So being the friendly guy I am I invited 5 more people, which turned into 11, which turned into 18, and so on. Before I knew it I had quite the amount of guest in my small home just a couple of blocks down from the Fire Department. So the drinking began and everyone was enjoying themselves, 1 hour passed, then 2 hours, the 3 hours, and it was already 11:00PM, just one more hour before the actual celebration of a beloved Saint could begin. Four Irish car bombs, 12 shots of Remy, and 4 shots of Heem found their way into my throat and worked their way into my dying liver. I decided that rather than just treating myself to some lovely alcohol, why not some fresh air! So I sat outside on the curb in front of the closed garage (don’t ask me how I got there, I can’t exactly remember) and laid on the grass that accompanied the concrete and helped myself to a little nap.

2 Hours later…

I wake up to the sound of angry voices in the distant backround and my cell phone ringing with the name “MotherBear” flashing on the cell phone’s screen. I ignore the call but I couldn’t ignore the voices, and I look to my left and down the street 3 of my guest had found they’re way into a neighbors bush and decided to take a piss, they found it amusing however the cops did not. All I heard was “What party did you boys come from?” and in scared, timid little voices I heard “Our friend Lo’s, he lives in that house over there” All I could think to myself was “some friends you guys are” so I ran inside told everyone to Shut the F*ck up and turned off the music and lights. Everyone was quite and still until we heard the knocking on the front door and the sound of my 3 “friends” talking outside. Coming to my senses knowing that I could potentially be in deep sh*t, I instantly woke my little cousin Monique up who had been sleeping in my parent’s bedroom and told her exactly how to act and what to say. So my 11 year old savior walked to the front door made of wood and the inner part made of some type of glass and she slowly opened it with a disturbed face as though she had been awaken from a 1000 year slumber. The police department asked her “Are you home by yourself young girl? We got complaints of a party at this address” and Monique answered “Officer why did you wake me up? I thought my uncle and auntie were home” (in the cutest little voice) and the Police apologized and went away. The drinking continued for another hour or so but the music no longer played, until it was 2:00AM and everyone decided to leave and head for their homes….I walked into my parents bedroom and thanked my cousin for bailing me out of the problem (not the first time she had done such a thing) and promising her a great day of shopping in San Francisco the next weekend. Monique responded with “that’ll be $50 and icecream thank you very much, now let me get some sleep please” so being drunk at the time I took it as a joke and as soon as I got the door leading to the hallway I stood in my tracks, and the outline of 2 bodies stood in the dark hallway and all I heard was…”No Angelo, how about you give me $500 dollars and some icecream, and clean all of this sh*t in our house…”

So after a few hours of sleep I spent the remaining hours of the Day cleaning the house and getting whatever my icecream my mother and father, and little cousin wanted to indulge in….Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, haha yeah riiighhtt.

Hope you enjoyed my story, this wasn’t the craziest but it was by far the most entertaining to me at least.

Katie Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 12:13 pm

yeeeeeeeeeeeey saint patricks day lets get drunk!!
xx

Katie Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 12:16 pm

i remember my last st patricks day…all i’ll say is my maths teacher was wearing a green thong…i’ll say no more

Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 12th, 2009 at 5:22 pm

OK all you drunkards and pants-pissers…the winner is…Lacey! Thanks for the entertaining stories everybody. We’re ending this one today so Phoebe can ship the winner the prize in time for the holiday.

The rest of Phoebe’s other St. Patrick’s Dia de los Dunnys that we had for sale in our ToyCyte Store have SOLD OUT! Congrats to those who got ‘em. Thanks to Phoebe for a spirited custoMONDAY!

Hang tight through the weekend til Monday when another custoMONDAY is coming your way.

phoebemarie Says:
March 12th, 2009 at 8:04 pm

thanks again to everyone for the AMAZING stories and the fabulous support. you’re all awesome.

love love love, phoebe marie

2 Trackbacks For This Post

St. Patty’s Dia de Los Dunny - Josh Spear, Trendspotting Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 8:00 am

[...] yarn), Toycyte is giving away the sixth (and most elaborate) figure in the series. Leave a comment here with the best story of drunken misconduct. Tags: contests, st. patrick’s day, [...]

St. Patty’s Dia de Los Dunny | Design | Tech | Culture Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 8:05 am

[...] yarn), Toycyte is giving away the sixth (and most elaborate) figure in the series. Leave a comment here with the best story of drunken [...]

phoebemarie Says:
March 2nd, 2009 at 7:18 pm
eeep! awesome, as always! thank you, jeremy!!!
xxo, phoebe marie
Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 2nd, 2009 at 9:12 pm
What’s with the slow responses? Are people sober? Are people too drunk to write? Show some spirit!
Rsinart Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 12:17 am
Hmm looking good, I don’t drink so I don’t have any stories, but anything in the spirit of Día de los Muertos is awesome. Hope someone hop’s on this contest, if not just send it my way lol. Good luck.
Lacey Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 4:47 am
I’ve got an embarrassing St. Patty’s Day story. Don’t know if it will be the best one ever but I’m still mortified.

A few years back I started seeing a new guy. I was truly bananas about him. On St. Patrick’s Day we REALLY tied one on. He suggested we go back to his house but on the ride, all the beers, shots, and margaritas caught up with me. It took EVERY ounce of strength I had NOT to wet my drawers.

We get back to his place and I race into the bathroom. Sadly, I’m wearing a belt that tied and I COULDN’T GET IT UNDONE!!! I was shaking like crazy, trying to hold it in, and working on this belt when FINALLY I got the knot undone! I breathed a sigh of relief and pissed like a race horse. I had never been happier in my entire life.

Until I realized that I pulled my PANTS down but NOT my underwear.

So I had just pissed 5 hours of alcohol all over my panties at my new dude’s house…and died a little inside.

HAPPY ST. PATTY’S DAY!
Mum Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:11 am
Cleveland may have the LONGEST St. Patty’s Day celebration in the states, but Boulder (Colorado) claims the WORLD’S SHORTEST St. Patrick’s Day Parade – a quick 2 blocks, then everyone is primed to celebrate at Connor O’Neill’s all decked out in their leprechaun-wear!

I feel lucky as a leprechaun – I just caused a turn-around for our sad economy by buying Phoebe Marie’s St. Patty’s Day of the Dead Dunny. For the price of a meal out I gained a POT of GOLD at the END of a RAINBOW! Phoebe Marie is awesome! Even if she wasn’t my kid …
Pepe Says:
March 3rd, 2009 at 10:16 pm
Sometimes you drink so much beer and Mountain Dew that you have to take a leak so badly all of your organs including your brain hurt. The worst part is when you are in public when this happens or no restrooms are vacant. It is even worse when you are finally standing at a communal trough and despite what your brain knows, your body just won’t produce. So on both sides of you, it’s basically Niagara Falls. And your bladder is The Sahara. This doesn’t really have to do with Saint Patricks Day but it could. I like these figures.
Mandy Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 8:05 am
One St. Patty’s Day after one too many green beers and a couple of shots, we went back to a friends house to continue the celebration. My friend lived in an old rent house that most of us had lived in or crashed in since graduating high school. I’d been there many times and it was no secret that I admired the 50’s style black and white checkered kitchen floor. Only this night I admired it a little too much. After I shot I was feeling a little dizzy, so I sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor…then I was feeling hot and dizzy so I laid down on the kitchen floor. It felt so cool on my hot little cheek that I stayed there, then much to my now sober embarrassment I began to pet the floor and tell it how much I loved it. Eventually the after party was dieing out and I was still on the floor, my friend was trying to get me up and out and home..but I refused to leave without the floor. I woke up the next morning on my beloved checkered floor only vaguely recalling my refusal to leave it.
daisy Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 8:27 am
well, seeing as i’m a real mickie-mick, and we don’t really “do” st. patty’s as well as the americans (i’ll give you that, kids!!), i am going to make up a story. see, usually on 17 march, i observe evacuation day, which is a lovely excuse for boston public officals to get a day off of work, or detox with a nice colonic. or i go to mass. or i go out after the sun has fallen, which translates into me being the only person left with any money, not to mention any wits. so, after all that joyous banter, here is my faux tale. call oscar:
one lovely, windy, sleeting mid-march morning, my lovely husband and meself traversed on down to the joy of poor brigid’s misery church to celebrate the day of our beloved patron saint, patrick. after three hours of chanting and guilt, i decided that i needed a pint. i promised my ever-so-gracious husband that i would be back before the supper hour. whoops. day turned to evening, and evening turned to ebon, and my poor manbride could find me nowhere. DONGDONG went the midnight bells, and ‘oh feck,’said i. i rose out of my perch and collapse like the economy. draggin myself out the door like a too-long family guy skit, i hail a taxi from the queue. i give him my address, and it’s rather fortunate that i was as drunk as i was, for i truly believe i may have been rambling in farsi, all to my taximan’s native delight. he drops me off at the next door neighbour’s house, as i have given him the wrong address (of course), and i pour myself onto the pavement. keys are nowhere; even the one hidden in our cleverly placed mystery rock is a no-go. finally i end up falling through the doorway, apologising like an apologist and cursing like a blinking computer icon. i try to hoist myself up and triumph over the stairs, but to no avail. finally, my humble matrimoner stares at me and mutters, “i can’t believe you’ve gone and lost your feckin’ wheelchair again.”
Camevil Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 9:40 am
The best St. Paddy’s day I had was about 5 years ago. I am a ghosthunter (make that a skeptic ghost hunter) in my spare time and run a website on my research (www.deadohio.com). I was invited by the owners of Warehouse on the Canal in Canal Fulton to come to a special St. Pat’s paranormal dinner and ghost hunt. Why ghost hunt on St. Paddy’s day? Well, the warehouse was built next to a canal. Back in those days, canals were built with the blood of Irishmen, who died violently or from sickness they suffered due to poor working conditions. They say for every mile of canal in Ohio, an Irishman lies buried. And if the Irish canal diggers’ ghosts are going to make an appearance, what better day than St. Pat’s?

Right.

So we went to the dinner and were served wonderful, albeit non-Irish fare (it was Cuban) and given several free glasses of hurricanes. After all, its better to see spirits if you have some spirits in ya.

The owners led us to the basement that used to serve as the morgue. They cheesed up the place with unnecessary props like a fake coffin and gothic candelabras. *oooooooo*

A psychic passed out divining rods and other questionable ghost hunting tools. We had a grand time watching the patrons drunkenly pacing the dark basement, accidentally poking each other with the dowsing rods and going into hysterics when their EMF (electro mag. frequency) readers lit up near the circuit breaker boxes, thinking they found a ghost!

Needless to say, no ghosts made themselves known to us. I’m pretty sure, though, they appreciated the drunken antics done in their honor.
Mariah Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 9:42 am
st. pattys snuck up on me one year, and i found i didn’t have a single green garment in my closet. i headed down to the local buy/sell/trade store (buffalo exchange) to sniff something out to avoid any unneeded pinching, and ultimately; ass slapping. just up the street though, was a place i was used to frequenting, and was open at 11am aready. i figured “what the feck. i could have a glass, and then go shopping -a la buzz style!”

i get to the bar, to discover the libations are already flowing, and the party’s already begun. 2 beers, 1 shot and an HOUR later, i tottle to the exchange and buy not only a green shirt, but a green feathered boa, a glittering green bowler, and a green fake hair moustache. i also reek of hootch, so all the staff at the place were giving me the harry eyeball as i had been entering and exiting the dressing rooms in various stages of dress and miss-dress: thing like green dresses from the 70’s that were reminiscent of mrs. roeper. green hooker heels, and of course the green feather boa, and the glittering green bowler hat.

by the time i’d made my purchases and waved goodbye to the poor staff who no doubt called the authorities to make certain to monitor my saunter home -mostly to be sure i wouldn’t be getting behind the wheel of any cars, as i was clearly housed…. the party back at the bar was on full-swing. at 1 in the afternoon.

the afternoon went forward with many drinks, me stealing some dude’s pants -him resorting to wearing an apron (underwear-less) when i wouldn’t return them, the obligatory passing around of the feather boa, and glittering bowler, shots, pints, and then apparently me falling off the bar while trying to do a shot on the bar.

i honestly don’t recall what all occurred, since all i woke up with was part of my soul missing, a shirt that was ripped to shreds, my underwear not ONLY backwards, but also inside out, and the words “I found the pot of gold” written on my butt cheek in green magic marker with a phone number beneath it.
Kingtycoon Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 12:49 pm
St. Patricks day? Who’s even catholic? My favorite one was that time we drove the snakes from Ireland.
The Blot Says:
March 4th, 2009 at 1:54 pm
I wish I could remember a good St. Patrick’s Day story to share, but I’m always too drunk to remember! HAHA

Awesome customs! Thanks for the contest.
brandxcomix Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 7:17 am
These are awesome on so many levels because I’m part Mexican and part Irish, so St. Patrick’s and Dia de los Muertos are pretty exciting for me. My story is mostly based on anecdotes from my friends because I really don’t remember it. A friend of mine had died a few days prior in a motorcycle accident, so I went out and got completely smashed and early in the night my friends and I stopped by a 7-11 to get some munchies and some Mickey’s, at which point I apparently decided to steal their entire supply of chocolate flavored Trojans. I proceeded to go to a large bronze statue of a bear where I decided to bury the condoms in memoriam of my deceased friends because “it’s what he would have wanted.” During my trip to and from the statue, I fell down a lot, as I had a mess of bruises on my arms and legs the next day. Rather than take me home like responsible friends, it was decided that we all go to a nearby party. When the hosts of the party went out on a beer run, I ordered a fifth of Jameson, which I ended up drinking straight from the bottle (a terrible waste, I know). A few minutes later, my decided that I had finally had too much to drink and decided that the best way to dispose of the excess was to projectile vomit all over a gaggle of sorority girls and wander off into the basement of the house. All of this I have only the vaguest memories of now, but cut to the next morning. I wake up face down in the basement of a strange house soaked in the sweet aroma of malt liquor, Irish whiskey, and hydrochloric acid with my limbs covered in bruises. Dazed, hungover, and smelling like a hobo convention, I walked 2 miles back to my house where I took a clothes on shower and went to class.
Jessica Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 10:40 am
Love these customs, Phoebe Marie! I have many drunken debaucherous stories, but alas, none that occurred on St. Patty’s Day.
Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 6th, 2009 at 10:48 am
Jessica–post anyway! Ultimately Phoebe is the judge on this one, but the staff of ToyCyte loves reading the stories of drunken debauchery, regardless of when they occurred!
angeLOseasons Says:
March 9th, 2009 at 9:49 pm
I would like to start off by saying that Pheobe Marie’s St. Patrick’s Dia De Los Dunny series looks absolutely mind blowing. Now onto my St. Paddy’s day story for you folks to enjoy, please keep in mind I was not even 21 at the time so here is some under age drinking for ya! haha.

It was one of the great days that I looked forward to all year, St. Patrick’s day March 17th. However, like many others around the world my St. Paddy’s day began 4 hours earlier than the actual day. It was Sunday night and I sat at a round table with 7 of my closest friends in my parent’s garage, who had by now reached the casino they had been planning to visit all week. Sitting in front of us were 7 lucky bottles of Remy Martin VSOP and yes you guessed it 2 dozen Irish Car Bombs. Knowing that all of the alcohol could not be consumed I took it upon myself to invite a few more friends over to pre-game with us. So being the friendly guy I am I invited 5 more people, which turned into 11, which turned into 18, and so on. Before I knew it I had quite the amount of guest in my small home just a couple of blocks down from the Fire Department. So the drinking began and everyone was enjoying themselves, 1 hour passed, then 2 hours, the 3 hours, and it was already 11:00PM, just one more hour before the actual celebration of a beloved Saint could begin. Four Irish car bombs, 12 shots of Remy, and 4 shots of Heem found their way into my throat and worked their way into my dying liver. I decided that rather than just treating myself to some lovely alcohol, why not some fresh air! So I sat outside on the curb in front of the closed garage (don’t ask me how I got there, I can’t exactly remember) and laid on the grass that accompanied the concrete and helped myself to a little nap.

2 Hours later…

I wake up to the sound of angry voices in the distant backround and my cell phone ringing with the name “MotherBear” flashing on the cell phone’s screen. I ignore the call but I couldn’t ignore the voices, and I look to my left and down the street 3 of my guest had found they’re way into a neighbors bush and decided to take a piss, they found it amusing however the cops did not. All I heard was “What party did you boys come from?” and in scared, timid little voices I heard “Our friend Lo’s, he lives in that house over there” All I could think to myself was “some friends you guys are” so I ran inside told everyone to Shut the F*ck up and turned off the music and lights. Everyone was quite and still until we heard the knocking on the front door and the sound of my 3 “friends” talking outside. Coming to my senses knowing that I could potentially be in deep sh*t, I instantly woke my little cousin Monique up who had been sleeping in my parent’s bedroom and told her exactly how to act and what to say. So my 11 year old savior walked to the front door made of wood and the inner part made of some type of glass and she slowly opened it with a disturbed face as though she had been awaken from a 1000 year slumber. The police department asked her “Are you home by yourself young girl? We got complaints of a party at this address” and Monique answered “Officer why did you wake me up? I thought my uncle and auntie were home” (in the cutest little voice) and the Police apologized and went away. The drinking continued for another hour or so but the music no longer played, until it was 2:00AM and everyone decided to leave and head for their homes….I walked into my parents bedroom and thanked my cousin for bailing me out of the problem (not the first time she had done such a thing) and promising her a great day of shopping in San Francisco the next weekend. Monique responded with “that’ll be $50 and icecream thank you very much, now let me get some sleep please” so being drunk at the time I took it as a joke and as soon as I got the door leading to the hallway I stood in my tracks, and the outline of 2 bodies stood in the dark hallway and all I heard was…”No Angelo, how about you give me $500 dollars and some icecream, and clean all of this sh*t in our house…”

So after a few hours of sleep I spent the remaining hours of the Day cleaning the house and getting whatever my icecream my mother and father, and little cousin wanted to indulge in….Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, haha yeah riiighhtt.

Hope you enjoyed my story, this wasn’t the craziest but it was by far the most entertaining to me at least.
Katie Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 12:13 pm
yeeeeeeeeeeeey saint patricks day lets get drunk!!
xx
Katie Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 12:16 pm
i remember my last st patricks day…all i’ll say is my maths teacher was wearing a green thong…i’ll say no more

xx
Jeremy Brautman Says:
March 12th, 2009 at 5:22 pm
OK all you drunkards and pants-pissers…the winner is…Lacey! Thanks for the entertaining stories everybody. We’re ending this one today so Phoebe can ship the winner the prize in time for the holiday.

The rest of Phoebe’s other St. Patrick’s Dia de los Dunnys that we had for sale in our ToyCyte Store have SOLD OUT! Congrats to those who got ‘em. Thanks to Phoebe for a spirited custoMONDAY!

Hang tight through the weekend til Monday when another custoMONDAY is coming your way.
phoebemarie Says:
March 12th, 2009 at 8:04 pm
thanks again to everyone for the AMAZING stories and the fabulous support. you’re all awesome.

love love love, phoebe marie

St. Patty’s Dia de Los Dunny - Josh Spear, Trendspotting Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 8:00 am
[...] yarn), Toycyte is giving away the sixth (and most elaborate) figure in the series. Leave a comment here with the best story of drunken misconduct. Tags: contests, st. patrick’s day, [...]
St. Patty’s Dia de Los Dunny | Design | Tech | Culture Says:
March 11th, 2009 at 8:05 am
[...] yarn), Toycyte is giving away the sixth (and most elaborate) figure in the series. Leave a comment here with the best story of drunken [...]