So Rummy, Colin and I were out on the town this weekend getting our pre-funk on in preparation for the big blowout inaugural ball, when Rummy tells me we have to go check out a wicked party up on D Street. Well I’ve heard about D Street, and I just knew that this was going to be a major let down, but Rummy promised me there was going to be booze and women at that party. In his own words he said, “We know for a fact there are going to be hella bitches up there,” and on several occasions went so far as to claim, “I have no doubt we’re going to find big stores of malt liquor in his pantry.”
Lies. Every word of it was lies.
I can’t even begin to describe my disappointment with his lack of judgment. He flat out looked me in the eyes and told me there was going to be brew and bitches, and we spent all night up on D Street looking for that damn party. He continued to backpedal the entire time, too, until just about sunrise when he finally admitted the rumors he’d heard about the party might have been false. I don’t know if I can trust him ever again, to be honest.
I was spose to get tore up this weekend, too. I wonder how he sleeps at night.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
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1 comment:
Oh now, Georgie. Ya see how it feels when you're lied to? It doesn't feel so nice now, does it? I hope ya learned yerself a good lesson. Now hurry up and drink that JD and coke. The faster ya drink it, the faster you'll see the beaver shot I put at the bottom of the glass. Go on, now! Drink it!
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