Friends from Florida are in town fleeing from the hurricane. We went o Bamboo Luau and boozd it, then went to a party and boozed it. My friends and my roommate stole a keg. Our so called friend ratted out on us. Kids ran in and started yelling at us in Spanish, which automatically triggered my asshole gene. We got in a fight with some lameass kids who couldn't fight their way out of a box of air. My roommate spent the rest of the evening vomiting. I, unfortunately, am friends with both my crew and the hosts, so I'm pretty sure the responsibility will fall on me. An, of course, it doesn't matter who is right or wrong, I have to side with my friends.
Damn, but I'm going to get it tomorrow. Ah well. So it goes. At least none of the kids waiting to beat my ass are frightening in the least.
Damn, but I'm going to get it tomorrow. Ah well. So it goes. At least none of the kids waiting to beat my ass are frightening in the least.
kestrel:
But whyyy aren't there new tattoo pictures?
archernu:
Your life seems about a thousand times more exciting than mine. Do you plan it that way, or does this type of stuff just sorta happen? Whatever the case, I think you could write a very amusing college-guy-in-Atlanta book from the stories in your journal.