Let me get this straight: It is 7:42 a.m. on a Friday morning. 97% of the people are miserable because they are headed to work (and contrary to modern corporate theory denim does not in any way alleviate work misery). It is quiet and most people are reading something. You are on your cell phone. You are telling Your Boy about how you went out for happy hour last night, met some chick named Kelly, crushed 7 of the Bombs Du Juor at the totally chill lounge they just opened next to your building, went with Kelly and her fat friend Kate for late night sushi and crushed sake, then took Kelly back to your place and banged out. You totally just kicked her out of your place 47 minutes ago. You are telling Your Boy about all of this in a very nonchalant tone as though you can't even be bothered. Seriously dude, fuck you. Need I remind you that you JUST GOT FUCKING LAID, on a Thursday night no less. That's a school night Cheese. I watched The Office and went to bed at 9:55; you banged the fuck out. Show some goddamn enthusiasm. It isn't like you got loaded, ate 2 gyros, pissed yourself and woke up on the bathroom floor asshole......you showed some trollop who's fucking boss, son! Stand up. Pace up and down the aisle of the bus. Shout out the details to Your Boy on the cell. Point your fucking finger in chick's faces. Grab your cod piece. I want to know:
-Did you go bareback?
-Did she steam your ham?
-Butt play?
-Pearl necklace?
-Did your roommates wake up pissed off?
-You totally gonna hit that shit again?
-Wad up a $20 and throw it at her as she left your room and say "Get a cab"?
-Where are you and Your Boy meeting up to pound Bombs and slay ass tonight?
Seriously brah, you nail some bitch shut on a week night don't act like you've been there before, rather tell 'em bout it, Chad Ochocinco-style. You are goddamned well awesome, act accordingly.
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