You guys, there was beer and burgers and, oh, yeah it was all thanks to the Schmelter and his parents' arrival in Cocoatown, USA. I'm pretty sure when I was twelve I saw something on the Travel Channel to that effect. Anyway, everything has a nickname. EVERYTHING. (But not really)
I'll begin at the beginning. And really the beginning is the parking lot of Dubs K. EVERYTHING. Beer was purchased by Produce Pete's brother, Pool Boy Pablo. He didn't have shoes on, so I'm not really sure how he was allowed into Dubs K. Like they sell food there. It's a pretty nice place. Like, you have to have on shoes AND a shirt when you go into Sevs and Sevs is like shitty. Every single one. Anyway, we decided to take a break from the traditional Bud Light (though it was bought for the timid) and try a fancy beer (Blue Moon, it is made from wheat [Does that mean it has less or more carbs???? HOW DID NOT ONE OF CHECK THAT]) and human piss (PBR, I assume in preparation for the activities of this coming Sunday.) Oh, and like burgers and buns and all that good stuff (except bleu cheese, IMO, IMO) were there too. It was a feast. MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH. The usual crowd munches on burgers and Taco Dip provided by the fine people (person) of Fraulein. (Quick question: does anyone who does not write for this blog or in a clique with someone who writes on this blog read this blog? If you do, just leave your nickname in the comments section. There won't be any comments, guys.)
So now, we've all eaten. Some of us are sufficiently drunk. I know that by 8 I was already gone because I had three whole beers all to myself because I am a big boy (pussy). Some of us swim! Swimming while inebriated is fun. More fun that just swimming and just being inebriated. Like chocolate and peanut butter. There is more talk of M/F/K because I just can't let it go even though the Gab Girls (like the show!) started it in secret yesterday. Always with the secrets. And now we get to the fun stuff. Not to say the other stuff wasn't fun, but the more fun drunk stuff!
UNDERWEAR TIME! Produce Pete and I both had to borrow things to swim in. This meant we had to take them off to give them back. We were in our underwear/naked under a towel. Outside. In front of others. For not a short a period of time. Zideburnz danced. In HIS underwear. And then this repeated when BP started. I typed what it stands for but I just like to abbreviate. From what I can cull from my brainspace, Produce Pete and Commander Cool went 4-0 (?) but BP records don't really matter because everyone wins. Also, my butt was exposed (?). My butt was exposed. I know you are sorry if you missed it. I'm sorry you missed it. So was Zideburnz's arse. Yeah, that happened, now I remember. I think that in the past week I've been told to put my pants back on more than in the 18 years and seven weeks preceding it.
I'm sure we made jokes about Ms. Piggy. Like that's just a given. We don't even have to be drubnsk to do that. Then there was BK and pie and Italian ices but no wooden spoons which made me sad. Then I got even more drunk so if I miss anything I apologize. I read Produce Pete's texts then he got mad then I said I would give him a dollar to touch Anne Frank's knockers (SO SORRY) but then he dared me and I said no and then we went to go smoke cigarettes even though I quit like two weeks ago and it's really cool to do that and there is a gigantic question mark after this ridiculously long sentence. Then I whispered sweet-nothings in Schmelter's ear. Rock Band. Yeah defintely some Rock Band in there. Then I fell asleep? And someone gave me a hug? Then at 7:45 this morning I woke up to go to work. Because I am so classy like that.
I look forward to repeating this process all over again on Sunday. (Deja BREW! GET IT!) Produce Pete and Schmelter have already seen me in my outfit. I think that with all the chips and fixins' this hipster party is turning into a dip-ster party. That sound you just heard was the sound a shotgun that I used to kill myself after I made that joke. And the deja brew one.
I do have one question: Whilst I was under the influence, did someone grab or bite my right nipple really hard? There's like a cut on it and it hurts really bad. Like a small cut, but still noticeable if you spend as much time as I do looking at one's nipples. Either I was taken advantage of, or I'm gonna be a mommy.
Now, I just need to remember what goes in dirt.
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