So it’s 4:10pm and if this were six years ago, I’d be ten minutes away from waking up from my afternoon nap and getting ready to play Mario-Kart and pull bong hits until dinner. Marshall and I would then jump in his white, 1981, Dodge Diplomat and drive down to Kwik trip for gas station sandwiches & Mega-buddies, (the Midwestern equivalent of a Double Gulp from 7-11). Let me just say here that no matter how hungry you are, two ham and cheese sandwiches for $1.00 is never a good idea. Although I have to say I did enjoy the gallons of soda (it’s not pop, motherfuckers) one could buy for the price of the coins in your pocket.
From there, we would go down to Fink & O’Keefe’s for beer, bong hits and foosball. All in all there were lots of nights ending in a suds and green tinted haze. Good times were had by all and I never thought I would say this, but I’ve finally been over it for awhile. I never thought I would be able to leave my days of being a collegiate hero behind. My nights of partying like a rock superstar and days of stretching my intellect to the point where I was sure my brain was going to be converted to small pearl tapioca.
What brought all of this up, you ask? I’m not certain, but I think it may have something to do with the fact that most of my friends are going through, what seem to be early mid-life crisis-es. They are buying sports cars and getting divorced. There are Harley Davidson’s owned and trips to
So I ran into an old friend who used to hang out with the other two guys I hang out with. We all met for a drink and then decided that DD should come back into the fold. That’s fine, I’m all for the prodigal son returning. It’s good having him back but in a lot of ways, nothings changed. He’s still got to have the last word, let everyone know how much better he’s doing than they are and take shots at me, cause I am the weakest link in the chain. Yeah, having sex with two, hot, young 20-somethings is doing better than me, but then again, I don’t have to make $1800.00 / month in child support payments either. Have fun working two jobs….forever.
Case in point: I’m on my way to lunch with Crazy Joe and my dad. DD calls to tell me that he’s exhausted because he was up all night fucking and watching movies with the Chili-porkers. He tells me that delivering the mail is going to be tough because he doesn’t know if he has the strength to walk his route and on top of this, he has to work until 11:00 pm at the restaurant. Good times, good times. I told him it has to be a rough life to have two young women come over and sex you until unconscious and then get up and go to your job, where you make an obscene amount of money for walking around. I tried to cut it short because DD’s tales of hoover-manuevering and cunnilingus-ing were loud enough for all to hear. My chicken parm was a little less tasty but a good lunch overall.
Maybe someday my ship will come in and I can do something other than research, work and sleep.
I hope you all are well.
Cheers,
JJ
2 comments:
I enjoy that BPD is finally starting to see the light.
Call me crazy but if you need to involve in menage a trois action to get your rocks off....obviously there is a problem because you need another person to help you with your 'work' then if you feel the need to brag about it to people flashes neon. If he starts asking you to call him Christian Troy, kick him the junk HARD and remind him that herpes is not the poison ivy.
That guy sounds great, you must have more patience than I do. I suspect I'd get up and walk away from him if feasible. Being the quiet one in social situations has it's advantages. And btw, if it's any consolation I can't drink like I was 23 anymore either.
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