I wake up. I’m still drunk. Stumble out of bed. Pan right. Where the hell am I? Not my room, and yet strangely familiar. I reach down. I am wearing no pants, a wife beater and a military style olive drab jacket. What the fuck was I thinking? I feel in my pocket. Pack of Camel Crush, when did I get that?
Phil’s room, that’s my location. Son of a bitch, what a whore last night. What a goddamn whore. That’s why I am here. The bitch fucking boked in my bed, and basically all over my fucking room. Oh wait a second, pop a cig in. Damn not being able to smoke inside, this is a fucking free country last time I checked. I mean seriously, fuck!
Anyway, so Phil entering my life has been awesome so far. Seriously his access to prescription speed is not even the reason.
I fucking hate Julia Roberts, by the way, and right now there is this really stupid and chinky movie called The Mexican on HBO and it has Julia Roberts in it and that’s not good.
Anyway Phil has been great. Just always having fun staying up all night, but honestly we aren’t gay or anything we just like making late night runs to get fast food, energy drink, beer, and sometimes even pussy. But seriously, Phil is the kind of guy who would fuck you in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give you a reach around.
So last night I was so wasted. Just really pissed off at this total bitch who was absolutely crossing the line when I was trying to get nice. So I basically told her to go fuck herself and ended up totally raging on the strip last night. I mean Christ, I think there was this really kick ass band that was like hardcore mix of rap or some kind of mash up bs. Either way it was raw as hell and I was totally head banging, and my neck feels like shit. Total sin dude, but seriously there was some fine ass in there last night.
I ended up rolling back to my place, and since the pussy hunt hadn’t really panned out, me and Eric decided to take more shots. Then Phil calls. He’s with some girl I can hear her laughing. It’s all really quite cliché. I mean who does that anyway. So he hasn’t been drinking at all, and I say why don’t you come over with her and try to get at her level so you wont feel so bad. Too bad home-girl took more shots with us. Mistake.
The rest of the night was basically Ashley trying to fuck Phil because she was hammered, me trying to fuck Ashley because I’m hammered, and Phil sober as hell just trying to, well I don’t even know what. Oh yeah and Ian was there too.
I’m sorry I was just trying to think of a catchy thing I had thought of last night to describe everything, but I couldn’t remember it and I just thought of a better one. “Never do sober what you couldn’t do drunk.” Abe Lincoln said that in 1862 at the height of the Civil War. Not a lot of people know that Lincoln was a raging alcoholic, but really its not hard to believe. But hell, the North still won so I guess the guy on the heads of a penny was right. Oh and the five dollar bill to, but its hard for me to say that because I feel like I am disgracing him every time I use a five to do a line of blow, and that works in more than one way. (I’m pulling a Phil here, but just let me explain that. The illicit drug thing is obvious because people assume that Abe wouldn’t condone, but on the flip side if he did condone, but was also a raging alcoholic then coke would not be his drug of choice.)
Okay so at one point we basically gave up on Ashley and just told her to sleep in my bed. Maybe my bed just smelled like shit, but seriously the girl was in that bed for about 30 seconds before she fucking baffed everywhere. So the bitch was throwing up for like ten minutes, Phil is spacing out, I am dancing really provocatively to “Only You,” home girl is throwing up, Phil is laughing, I am laughing, home girl is boffing, Ian is gaming, and did I mention that Ashley threw up. So somehow we end up in the hall. I was kissing her she was kissing me. Covered in boff, I mean goddamn. Then Phil came and got us, and Ashley must have like fucking abducted herself or something, because she had fucking bocked in the shower while I was outside.
Guns don’t kill people, postal workers do. Fuck USPS. And FUCK Obama. Anf FUCK Phillip Morris you fucking American Tobacco cocksuckers.
So somehow we ended up back at Southgate, and I was trying to take the edge off with some tobacco and Ashley was really stressing me out so I just started saying things like, “hey you’re a slut,” “How much blow did you do tonight,” and “Hey will you let me and Phil run a train on you?” I don’t know what I was thinking.
She is back in the room laying out. Suddenly she just freaks and runs out the door. I didn’t even know she left, and we never saw her again. Hopefully she turned out okay, but its not like alcohol is that dangerous anyway.
I slept in Garrett’s bed last night. Don’t worry Garrett wasn’t there (Sorry Garrett). It was a little weird, but I got used to it. At least it wasn’t full of boke. But now its almost two o’clock and Phil is still sleeping and my room probably smells like shit and Ian is probably pissed, but its cool because I still got a really big penis.
Phil’s room, that’s my location. Son of a bitch, what a whore last night. What a goddamn whore. That’s why I am here. The bitch fucking boked in my bed, and basically all over my fucking room. Oh wait a second, pop a cig in. Damn not being able to smoke inside, this is a fucking free country last time I checked. I mean seriously, fuck!
Anyway, so Phil entering my life has been awesome so far. Seriously his access to prescription speed is not even the reason.
I fucking hate Julia Roberts, by the way, and right now there is this really stupid and chinky movie called The Mexican on HBO and it has Julia Roberts in it and that’s not good.
Anyway Phil has been great. Just always having fun staying up all night, but honestly we aren’t gay or anything we just like making late night runs to get fast food, energy drink, beer, and sometimes even pussy. But seriously, Phil is the kind of guy who would fuck you in the ass and not even have the goddamn common courtesy to give you a reach around.
So last night I was so wasted. Just really pissed off at this total bitch who was absolutely crossing the line when I was trying to get nice. So I basically told her to go fuck herself and ended up totally raging on the strip last night. I mean Christ, I think there was this really kick ass band that was like hardcore mix of rap or some kind of mash up bs. Either way it was raw as hell and I was totally head banging, and my neck feels like shit. Total sin dude, but seriously there was some fine ass in there last night.
I ended up rolling back to my place, and since the pussy hunt hadn’t really panned out, me and Eric decided to take more shots. Then Phil calls. He’s with some girl I can hear her laughing. It’s all really quite cliché. I mean who does that anyway. So he hasn’t been drinking at all, and I say why don’t you come over with her and try to get at her level so you wont feel so bad. Too bad home-girl took more shots with us. Mistake.
The rest of the night was basically Ashley trying to fuck Phil because she was hammered, me trying to fuck Ashley because I’m hammered, and Phil sober as hell just trying to, well I don’t even know what. Oh yeah and Ian was there too.
I’m sorry I was just trying to think of a catchy thing I had thought of last night to describe everything, but I couldn’t remember it and I just thought of a better one. “Never do sober what you couldn’t do drunk.” Abe Lincoln said that in 1862 at the height of the Civil War. Not a lot of people know that Lincoln was a raging alcoholic, but really its not hard to believe. But hell, the North still won so I guess the guy on the heads of a penny was right. Oh and the five dollar bill to, but its hard for me to say that because I feel like I am disgracing him every time I use a five to do a line of blow, and that works in more than one way. (I’m pulling a Phil here, but just let me explain that. The illicit drug thing is obvious because people assume that Abe wouldn’t condone, but on the flip side if he did condone, but was also a raging alcoholic then coke would not be his drug of choice.)
Okay so at one point we basically gave up on Ashley and just told her to sleep in my bed. Maybe my bed just smelled like shit, but seriously the girl was in that bed for about 30 seconds before she fucking baffed everywhere. So the bitch was throwing up for like ten minutes, Phil is spacing out, I am dancing really provocatively to “Only You,” home girl is throwing up, Phil is laughing, I am laughing, home girl is boffing, Ian is gaming, and did I mention that Ashley threw up. So somehow we end up in the hall. I was kissing her she was kissing me. Covered in boff, I mean goddamn. Then Phil came and got us, and Ashley must have like fucking abducted herself or something, because she had fucking bocked in the shower while I was outside.
Guns don’t kill people, postal workers do. Fuck USPS. And FUCK Obama. Anf FUCK Phillip Morris you fucking American Tobacco cocksuckers.
So somehow we ended up back at Southgate, and I was trying to take the edge off with some tobacco and Ashley was really stressing me out so I just started saying things like, “hey you’re a slut,” “How much blow did you do tonight,” and “Hey will you let me and Phil run a train on you?” I don’t know what I was thinking.
She is back in the room laying out. Suddenly she just freaks and runs out the door. I didn’t even know she left, and we never saw her again. Hopefully she turned out okay, but its not like alcohol is that dangerous anyway.
I slept in Garrett’s bed last night. Don’t worry Garrett wasn’t there (Sorry Garrett). It was a little weird, but I got used to it. At least it wasn’t full of boke. But now its almost two o’clock and Phil is still sleeping and my room probably smells like shit and Ian is probably pissed, but its cool because I still got a really big penis.
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