So, as it turns out, leftover Uncle Bills' pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, and fried chicken is a delicious mistake. AKA Heartburn Central. But it was fun while it lasted. Also, little known fact, the open sign at 3am on the Vietnamese sandwich place is gloriously deceiving to drunk-Us. (drunk-Us is hyphenated for a reason people. Keep up. It's called rhythm*.)
Well, the Pabsts were cold and cheap, the conversation relatively obscene, and the music good enough to thump in my seat. Last night equals a sucessful Monday. Thanks Kyle and K.
-Junk
P.S. KB's eye was less swollen - from when his bony-assed friend was thrown bony-ass first into him whilst breaking into a CWE pool a la 4am-get-stuck-like-a-pig-on-the-fence style. That happened at the old place once, and I pulled the guy off. Gross. I didn't even know his name. But it didn't happen this time; because I manhandled John-John thighs and got man-glittered in the process. Left 'em a present, too. My least favorite Calvin Kline whitey-tighties were found by some erstwhile poolman early Sunday morning. Enjoy, poolman, enjoy.
*Great scrabble word.
omg. if you seriously wrote that whilst drunk that is awesome. pharmaceuticals?! i think you missed your career as a stream of consciouness poet!
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