Here I am with Piss-Bottle-Man and B-Mil, at Geck’s, innnn...I’m gonna say April? P-B-M looks chubby and pale, I look old, tired, and surly (strewth) , while B-Mil has a sporty tan. We could raise some Cain, that’s fo damn sho. The best was when I rolled in hot to Geck’s one night, saw B-Mil standing by the dart board, and jumped him, screaming. I hit him high, and locked my legs around him. He wasn’t ready for me, and I guess I attached to him above his centre of gravity, because he staggered backwards, and we both went flying back into the tall table next to the dart board, which fell over. BOOOOM!! The capsized table acted as a fulcrum, propelling us, legs flying, 180 degrees through the air and onto our asses, as a shower of glasses and bottles shattered around us. Smashhh-o! The old-timey saloon piano player stopped playing, and the packed bar was silent. “I didn’t do it.” I said calmly, and we got up. Good ol Minho was over in a flash, and he picked up the table and said softly “Pat-uh...you...don’t go too crazy tonight-uh.” We’re number one! We’re number one! I’m quite certain that the remaining Geck’s staff (squares) are sooo happy we’re gone.
Disturbingly, I have two more stories that involve me crashing through tables covered in glass vessels, but I’ll save those gems for another day.
I’ve been busy writing a book for the past couple of months, it’s gonna be scandalous. Coming soon! Act later!
Looks like I’m heading to NYC for a long weekend with the boys. Awwwww sheeit!
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