This One Time, In Rehab, There Was This Kid, He Couldn't Have Been But Twelve, I was Just Thinking About Him.


September 21, 2009 by sandwichcontrol

Sometimes, I remember the old days through rose colored glasses and other times I remember the old days like they actually were. Most of them were fairly dull, but once in a great while things got crazy-go-nuts. Those were the times that made for good stories. The things that were not funny at the time, but we can laugh about them now.

Like the time Fuji, reverent pause while pouring malt liquor on ground, got drunk and passed out on the rug, subsequently vomiting on said rug, then wallowed in said vomit in a passed out kinda way, only to awaken the next morning having to meet his future wife’s parents, for the first time, for breakfast. From the time he woke up until the time he was supposed to meet them was a very short period of time which did not grant him much clean up time. Plus he puked all over the floor. None of us were happy that morning, but it’s funny now. No wonder his wife never really liked us.

Or the time that I got really trashed on rum and rationalized that I could drink a lot of wine as well because it had the Virgin Mary on the bottle. I spent the next few hours over a sink squeezing a washcloth in the running water whilst Dave hit me in the back of the head with a giant plastic Viking warhammer. At least he was telling me that he loved me while he did it. Smack. I love you. Smack. I love you. Smack. I love you.

Ugh, those were strange days. Well, enough nostalgia for a Monday morning. Off to work I go. More soon. ~SC


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