So, myself and my two friends Tom and Sneeks made our way to the land of the lost last Friday night. We arrived around midnight and what took place in the following 48 hours proved a couple things to me. First of all, 3 surprise dickheads were in attendance which only made matters worse and better. Anyways, after we got there at midnight, we proceeded to stand around a campfire in a fucking blizzard and punch ourselves in the face with beers and pass around a bowl and a bottle of Rumpleminze. Next thing you know it’s 5:00 AM and a wily temptress demon cat is trying to rape me in my sleep. Downright terrifying. After some solid pillow talk, we passed out around 6:00. We arose around 11:00 and I literally thought someone put a baseball bat up my butthole through my brain and out of the top of my head. We smoked a bowl to regain our sense of being and then made our way downstairs. Keep in mind; no one has even considered showering, changing clothes or boxers, brushing teeth, applying some sort of deodorizer, or anything else to do with general human hygiene. The UCONN game was set to start at noon so, naturally, we started evaporating beers. Once we realized we didn’t have enough, Sneeks and Woodrow made their way to the store and fetched 4 30 packs of American beer. We continued to play some weird board game with metal pieces and fake money and it was dumb and I was bored so I made it a point to get out first so I could get back to blacking out.

Apparently we went bowling?

The last thing I remember is chugging beers in Mr. Woody’s face every time he wasn’t looking at me and then he threatened to kill me and claimed he has killed “thousands of men.” Yeah, prolly bro.

The point of this entire post is that me and 6 of my friends decided to hang out for the weekend and next thing you know we drank 300 beers, didn’t shower or change our clothes, didn’t even consider doing anything other than sitting and talking, and made absolutely no attempt to make a positive impact on anything other than the stocks of Big Beer Companies.

We are raging alcoholics and I’d be surprised if any of us see 40. That’s what friends are for.

Cue the music!



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