An Ode to Chode
Well, Summer has neared it’s end. Finally, closure to, by far, the most miserable season of the year. It has been a good 3 months though, I’ll fucking give it that much. We decided to end it with a big blowout and had a little get-together at Ryan’s house. I think we pretty much do this at the end and beginning of any season/semester/Greg’s coming and leaving Memphis just to have an excuse to exhibit group drinking. About a 100 people showed up, i think. Most of them were douches from High School and people I didn’t want anything to do with. I had to keep myself entertained, so I let my ole friend Daniel(it’s strange, we used to have great sex, but since he joined a frat and officially filed for homosexuality, the baloney-bopping has been a bit lacking) put cigarettes out on my wrist and sides. I’ve got about 5 nice burns going right now. He also wanted to exhibit my tolerance for pain(no anal fisting, unfortunately) and asked if he and all of his frat buddies could punch me in the fucking stomach. The first seven of them hit like a bunch of cunts and inflicted no more than a step back from me. Then, I was introduced to Eastside Killa. This is one of their chaps that apparently used to be a goddam east coast gang member. I was told that the last time this guy was in some strip club, he resourcefully took an ink pen and stabbed some poor fucker in the neck. So, obviously I was really fucking honored to be slugged in the goddam gut by him! He did seem like a pretty nice guy though(good thing I didn’t fucking wake him up). He had to hit me with his left hand, due to his having two fingers on his right(not joking). This sonofabitch not only punched me harder than I’ve ever been fucking hit before, but he took a five step running start to do so. I was literally lifted off of the ground and landed on my knees. It was probably one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me! It was soooooo fucking good. Even Greg said that I looked happier than I’ve ever looked before, on the ground(and believe me, he’s seen me plenty “happy” before. He calls me his “Little Gush Goblin“. )I got up, laughed it off and shook this fine young man’s hand. For an ex gang member, he sure was apologetic and seemed kinda concerned about my potentially blood-filled bladder. I thanked him a lot and we hit it off famously. This comes to show you, even gang members can be okay guys. Unless they’re black or mexican.