Breaking glass. Joe in scores stumbling around the ranch keeping Anheuser-Bush in business. Everything is foggy. We tell each other stories of what happened the night before because no one can remember what they did, but we remember vividly how funny it was when you poured beer all over Travis as he was preaching the gospel of Jose Cuervo standing on the coffee table.
Saturday night in Fayettenam. The same crew, the same drunken orgy of sorrow disguised as loud drunken comradery that keeps us sane, the same nagging guilty feeling when you wake up, "fuck I wonder who I have to apologize to today?"
Sound and fury signifying nothing, but fuck man, what a night.
Saturday night in Fayettenam. The same crew, the same drunken orgy of sorrow disguised as loud drunken comradery that keeps us sane, the same nagging guilty feeling when you wake up, "fuck I wonder who I have to apologize to today?"
Sound and fury signifying nothing, but fuck man, what a night.
ami:
playing poker with some of your friends tonight. they say you might be interested in doing sets. if so let me kno