i asked jeremy where don was.
"he's out back picking 921." he said
921 was a route number. that route was my favorite cuz it was the one that delivered to tiger stadium. i loved tiger stadium. the malt cups were fucking amazing. malts are so good, people always get stupid shakes. malts are the shit. when was the last time you had a malt? not a shake, a malt. the one that tastes like malt?
my buddy growing up had a shake/malt maker. i used to spend the night at his house when i was a kid and him mom would make real malts. damn, she made a kick ass malt. probably the best ever. shawn, what a great dude. i had lots of good times with him. we got drunk as hell on zima one night. he puked. it was all clear. then he drove to silvermans. silvermans was an all night joint that you could sit and smoke and drink coffee and they wouldn't kick you out. all kinds of drunk idiots in there. you always knew somebody in there too. it was the local hangout at 3am. we were drunk idiots. i got the mushroom barley soup and home fries. it really coated the stomach after a solid night of drinking zima. fucking zima. what a piece of shit drink that was. do they even make that crap anymore?
i went to a bar one time, i didn't have shit for cash. my buddy matt was a cool dude, he said he would buy me a drink if i promised to drink whatever he bought me. i said it was fine as long as it was in a bottle or in a can. no booze. he grinned and ordered me a zima gold (of all things). here's where it gets interesting. i played in a band with matt. he played drums. the whole band was there actually, it was this irish pub in garden city and our friends band was playing there. so we rolled up in our band van and poured in. i was drinking my zima and i saw this dude standing drinking a beer and from the back it really looked like matt. he was talking to some dude i didn't know. i walked over and wound up and smacked him in the ass as hard as i could. you see matt and i always did that shit to each other. we thought it was funny as hell. and it usually was. this time...not so much. the problem was that it wasn't matt. it was some dude from garden city who didn't take kindly to men smacking him in his ass. i guess i don't blame him. i never much cared for matt smacking me in the ass either. that's why i smacked this guy so hard cuz last time matt wound up like a son-of-a-bitch and really let me have it. well he turned around and was all:
"what the fuck is wrong with you faggot?"
"uh, i thought you were someone else man. sorry..? i'm not gay either."
"he's out back picking 921." he said
921 was a route number. that route was my favorite cuz it was the one that delivered to tiger stadium. i loved tiger stadium. the malt cups were fucking amazing. malts are so good, people always get stupid shakes. malts are the shit. when was the last time you had a malt? not a shake, a malt. the one that tastes like malt?
my buddy growing up had a shake/malt maker. i used to spend the night at his house when i was a kid and him mom would make real malts. damn, she made a kick ass malt. probably the best ever. shawn, what a great dude. i had lots of good times with him. we got drunk as hell on zima one night. he puked. it was all clear. then he drove to silvermans. silvermans was an all night joint that you could sit and smoke and drink coffee and they wouldn't kick you out. all kinds of drunk idiots in there. you always knew somebody in there too. it was the local hangout at 3am. we were drunk idiots. i got the mushroom barley soup and home fries. it really coated the stomach after a solid night of drinking zima. fucking zima. what a piece of shit drink that was. do they even make that crap anymore?
i went to a bar one time, i didn't have shit for cash. my buddy matt was a cool dude, he said he would buy me a drink if i promised to drink whatever he bought me. i said it was fine as long as it was in a bottle or in a can. no booze. he grinned and ordered me a zima gold (of all things). here's where it gets interesting. i played in a band with matt. he played drums. the whole band was there actually, it was this irish pub in garden city and our friends band was playing there. so we rolled up in our band van and poured in. i was drinking my zima and i saw this dude standing drinking a beer and from the back it really looked like matt. he was talking to some dude i didn't know. i walked over and wound up and smacked him in the ass as hard as i could. you see matt and i always did that shit to each other. we thought it was funny as hell. and it usually was. this time...not so much. the problem was that it wasn't matt. it was some dude from garden city who didn't take kindly to men smacking him in his ass. i guess i don't blame him. i never much cared for matt smacking me in the ass either. that's why i smacked this guy so hard cuz last time matt wound up like a son-of-a-bitch and really let me have it. well he turned around and was all:
"what the fuck is wrong with you faggot?"
"uh, i thought you were someone else man. sorry..? i'm not gay either."
