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"my 21st birthday is either a reason for you to celebrate, or lock yourself at home in fear of the ominous existence that will be the remainder of your life... so you might as well party because resistance is futile" That was the way I summed up the gala in an IM with my brother. He and his wife, Holly, will be two of the oh-I'd-say-about-30-or-so people joining in with one common goal. Getting me hammered. I think their mission will be accomplished. I'm very excited right now. I think I'm more excited than I was for Christmas. I'm ready to put the criminal record in the past. I'm ready to legally accept the responsibility of drunkeness; perhaps one of the only responsibilities I can handle. It feels great. I am going to be coaching em up, and coaching em right on back down all night. I'm told that their will be some adversity; I'll probably be seeing some of those shots more than once if you feel me. That's fine. I'm a trooper. I'll take my medicine. Triple bypasses, here we come! Finally, this day has come. "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." And the rest, as they say, is history. Post a comment in response: |
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