I was down in Puerto Rico for spring break back in college. After a long night of drinking, we went to this ghetto ass nudie bar and got absolutely plastered some more. One of my boys was a still a virgin at this point. We were getting him hammered and egging him on. To make a long story short, later on in the middle of the night we see him walk in to a back room with two chicks. An hour later we were looking for him because we were ready to leave so we knock on the room. He's lying on the bed passed out. He swears he remembers nothing. The only thing I remember about that night was the name of the joint, Lucky 7.
My real name is Christian.
__________________
"Footpeg, knee-puck and side tire wear tell how deeply the devotee partakes of our cult sacraments: the scuffs, scrapes and feathered side rubber from conquered forces, or the fractured plastic of triumphant ones, are worn proudly up and down our two-lane tabernacles as proof of personal enlightenment."
Keith Code
|