sorethroat | ||||||||||
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� ode to i-boy, my pawn, my lackey nov 16 2004 - 4.16 pmi like being relatively rich (made even richer by not paying your bills) - this way, it's very easy to come home from a devastatingly bad class and say to your roommate "we're getting drunk." you have already gone through the options in your head - go out to bar, or go get booze and drink it on the deck. pros and cons, cost efficiency, smoking vs. non-smoking, music and atmosphere vs. racoons and awkward silences. he, half-smoked joint in hand, laments that he has no money. "I'M BUYING. IT'S ON ME." forceful. he is your whore. you and he together are not alcoholics. you and he together are not drowning your sorrows, or self-medicating. you and he together are roommates bonding, going out, having FUN. FUN DAMMIT. he purdies himself up in a button down shirt and newsboy cap and becomes a suitable companion for sucking back a pitcher, stealing your fries, and convincing you that you're not an idiot if you don't "get" philosophy. and as if that weren't all enough? he thanks you "for the beer" when you go to bed. @>-;-- last time***next time |