"Hey, let's find some 21-year-old *****."
"No," said Ryan M*****, "they're all fat."
"No," I said, "I want a good story. My friends in New York are *******."
"That'll be $1.75 for your gallon of beer," said our waitress.
"Your pitching arm is beautiful," I say. "That can't be accurate."'
"You know the owners."
"I will leave you $10 in tip because you are 21 and beautiful."
Tag Team back again. AC/DC earns royalties.
We see Wendy E******. "Is that Drew W********?"
Yes. Cocaine and powerlines, that was the story. It's like a Denis Johnson story without violence or heartache. M*** B***** has called us all. Jason owns a house in East Town, paid for less than the Thai food I ordered on Tuesday. Where I'm from, a gallon of beer costs a nickel and you can by a mansion for $10. Find 21-year-old *****? B** is unamused.
Kelly ******* shrieks at me. She will move to Portland. Ken Kesey spent some of his best years in Oregon.
"It's all done," I say. "[Redacted] is the worst thing to wish on anyone. It's hell on earth."
Tag Team, back again. Montell Jordan.
"Ryan M*****, Jason, you are all puss****." I drink down. Is that even my beer? It's unclear. Raspberry beret? Pregnancy. There's Wendy! Talking to Drew W********. I am a gentleman.
"Where do you live?"
"Central Park is far. Thompkins Square Park dog run."
"Wha?'
"Thompkins Square Park dog run."
"Wha? Hey, I knew your sister."
"She's a nice girl," I say.
On the way out I run into a kid. He goes to Michigan for undergrad. He yells when he sees my shirt. We briefly discuss college. I shout Ralph Williams's name. The kid gets excited, too. This will be my top moment all month.
J*** B******** doesn't want to listen to me, but when I was seventeen, he was the man. I'm drunk and it's late. I have a Miller Lite flashing necklace. Tomorrow, I'll give it to my eight-year-old cousin, right before I throw him.
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9 comments:
[crickets]
[tumbleweed]
[blank stare]
It's Garden State but evil, and instead of annoying emo there's annoying whoomp there it is.
I love me some 21-year-old *****!!!
Whoomp. There it is.
This post just took the #1 spot on list of "Things I Hate Because I Don't Understand Them".
Obviously, you've never been drunk.
The only thing that confused me was that, at first, I thought Ryan M****** was Ryan Mallett. Who can't be tired of 21-year-old pussy yet, but only because he was so shitty against Wisconsin.
If Hemingway had to put up with this kind of confusion, no wonder he killed himself.
For the record, I threw my eight-year-old cousin the next day.
Hemingway didn't write stuff as confusing as this post. Seriously, it's like I wrote it.
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