Life is like a box of chocolates...
If you had asked me at age 18, if at age 34 I would still be spending Friday night drinking beer in a van at a lame-ass house party and being forced to pee in the partially frozen mud behind a junked-out RX7, I would have just given up trying.
Christ, it smelled like ass out there.
I couldn't help but feel creeped out by the surrealistic scene of 4 or 5 teens basically dragging their underage alcohol poisoned friend in our headlights as we backed out of the most precarious fucking driveway I have ever seen in my life, like some sort of macabre death march through the mud. Some maternal feeling peeked in there, but went away pretty quickly when we got free of the muck and onto the road.
!
Christ, it smelled like ass out there.
I couldn't help but feel creeped out by the surrealistic scene of 4 or 5 teens basically dragging their underage alcohol poisoned friend in our headlights as we backed out of the most precarious fucking driveway I have ever seen in my life, like some sort of macabre death march through the mud. Some maternal feeling peeked in there, but went away pretty quickly when we got free of the muck and onto the road.
!