5 Ceasars, 2 baileys and 16 joints

Spitting this morning felt like i was giving birth to something with my mouth. Granted, i'm aware that i didn't do that much drinking, being totally out drunked...drank (?) by M and G over at Death through misadventure, but i still held my own and out smoked everybody having my last toke around 4am today... well until the one i just had that is. Ah the RV. Ville Emard's hole in the fucking ground i like to call my only drinking hang out. Old fucks chillin out singin' Kareoke until the wee hours of the morning, i love it. Watching that old woman hike up her skirt and grind away to M's rendition of "La rue principale" was priceless.... Dude, i swear next time you come to me and say " Annie! I'm gonna fuck her if you don't hold me back!" well... you said it 2h45? no one to fuck? I ain't gonna get in the way of a beautiful thing.


While at the bar a guy was passing out those "hi i'm a mute, can you help a brother out?" card. While i'm sympathic to this person's problems and everything (although doing this in a bar it did cross my mind that maybe this dude is just some evil genius alcoholic that's found the perfect way to never buy beer again... but i doubt that.) i thought to myself "what if i were illiterate?... would it be appropriate in that case to hand the mute guy a card that has the letter "R" on it and be like "sorry man but i've got my own problems"



At his request, from hence forth M will be referred to as the Earthquake from Peru.