(no subject)
People in Austin are, as a rule, idiots.
I can pretty much count my good friends here on one hand. Back home, I'd need to be a multi-armed Hindu god or something to be able to count all of my friends on my (multiple) hands. This place blows.
There's no shortage of fake people to meet. By the by, if you think your coke-head ass can sit and talk shit about my each of my Austin buddies in succession, you're lucky I'm too noble to just toss you out of the second-story window. You'll get yours. And if I'm there when it happens, all the better.
Vanessa's friends are idiots. Lucky for them, I was sober last night. Had I been drunk, I would've kindly asked Vanessa to go downstairs and retrieve the tire iron from my back seat. Not that I'd use it to beat 'em down (that's cheap); I'd just need it to pry my boot out of that kid's ass. This rockstar fuck (and y'all KNOW how much I hate scenesters) had the nerve to talk shit about Dave and D-bo in front of me...I gave him the benefit of the doubt this time around, but I made it clear that if it ever happens again I'd knock his teeth out and piss in his mouth. Funny thing is, this kid thinks he can take on D-bo...what he doesn't realize is, by default, he'd be fighting me, Scott, and Dave at the same time, and would end up a mewling pile of denim and leather, bleeding all over the sidewalk.
Anywho, we'll wait and see. It won't be much of a challenge (this kid's like 90 lbs), but some people just need to be put in their place - the hospital.
hahaha
I can pretty much count my good friends here on one hand. Back home, I'd need to be a multi-armed Hindu god or something to be able to count all of my friends on my (multiple) hands. This place blows.
There's no shortage of fake people to meet. By the by, if you think your coke-head ass can sit and talk shit about my each of my Austin buddies in succession, you're lucky I'm too noble to just toss you out of the second-story window. You'll get yours. And if I'm there when it happens, all the better.
Vanessa's friends are idiots. Lucky for them, I was sober last night. Had I been drunk, I would've kindly asked Vanessa to go downstairs and retrieve the tire iron from my back seat. Not that I'd use it to beat 'em down (that's cheap); I'd just need it to pry my boot out of that kid's ass. This rockstar fuck (and y'all KNOW how much I hate scenesters) had the nerve to talk shit about Dave and D-bo in front of me...I gave him the benefit of the doubt this time around, but I made it clear that if it ever happens again I'd knock his teeth out and piss in his mouth. Funny thing is, this kid thinks he can take on D-bo...what he doesn't realize is, by default, he'd be fighting me, Scott, and Dave at the same time, and would end up a mewling pile of denim and leather, bleeding all over the sidewalk.
Anywho, we'll wait and see. It won't be much of a challenge (this kid's like 90 lbs), but some people just need to be put in their place - the hospital.
hahaha