22 drinks later...
The aftermath of total confusion. My mind a total blur, a hangover that only god himself could tolerate. I woke up in my car, in the driveway, with an open garage door, to warm slowly brightening sunlight. Everything around me seemed to reek of mass excess. Littered beer cans and bottles on the floor, half drunk glasses of concoctions only known to the owners, shot glasses stacked up high on the chest, cigarrette butts, and tobacco strewn in one corner of the room, footprints all around, a tv buzzing its friendly warm sound of peace tranquility and mindlessness, and two people still conversating. All my mind thought of that moment was water, water please. Water received and a stumble onto the two seater bean bag. More closed eyes, and just the drone of two peopel conversating endlessly at this early hour of 6am. Another two hour nap, eyes back open, they're still there 8am, finishing up their talk and thanking me for the great night, and party at this garage, my bachalor pad, separated from my folks house by a patio. Apparently this was a very good night, a celebration of my 22nd birthday which was this past tuesday, june 7th, two thousand and five. This year turning into one very unholy year of mass consumption and madness in brief bursts, of controlled corruption and tainted good times. This is a life that I call my own, this is how we do it, we rock hard, we live life to the limits, no one else can compete.
Everybody who came out last night, thank you very much. You rock it like nobody else does, and all it was supposed to be was a kick back. God bless our small group.
Everybody who came out last night, thank you very much. You rock it like nobody else does, and all it was supposed to be was a kick back. God bless our small group.