Because I Am A Social Creature

Last night we got all drunkass and rowdy and such. We had vodka, pizza, and insincerity, all in large quantities. We heard my favorite song, also known as "the best song ever" at least a billion times. The evening was a little light on meaning, but the pizza place said they couldn't deliver us any, and we didn't really know where else to look.

At about goddamn-we're-fucking-hammered o'clock, we went to the gas station to buy some cigarettes. We got the cigarettes, once again failing to procure any meaning; apparently the gas station attendant wanted us to pay for it with some currency called "reason," and it seemed that we were a little light at the time.

Walking back to my place, we walked past a construction site. Just lying there on the sidewalk were a bunch of really beautiful 12 foot 2x4's, waiting for us if you will. H-Barj and D-Bone, my impulsive, compulsive, redoubtable companions, immediately decided that I, being the sultan of drunken go-fuck-yourself, deserved a ride on this new and awesome, magical piece of wood.

Everything was going fine, until the point where it wasn't. But worry not, my dears, I was not to be thrown from the wild beast. I clung to it with both arms and both legs, like some kind of emotionally needy spider-wombat. Yeah, you heard me. When we got in the door, we roused St. Christopher from his sleep, and D proclaimed, triumphantly, that he had returned with the necessary Jew-on-a-spit. Then we watched Transformers: The Movie and, as always, I cried when Optimus Prime died.

My new 2x4 sits at my side as I type these words for you. His name is Tobias.