So I feel better, in general. It was a long, interesting weekend to say the very least. My 21st birthday hit me like an H-Bomb with a dash of napalm. It's all good in the hood, though. Friday night, good Lord. Oliver took me out to Coyote Ugly and Sixth Avenue, accompanied by Speth, Fortner, Grant and Jeff Reed. Jeff acted as the D.D. and avoided
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Man, being 21.. I'm in big trouble.
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Hope to catch you Friday night. That should be some famously amusing teetering.
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Drop it like it's luke-warm.
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Especially since you lookier hotter in my hat than I do, you bastard.
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