Just wait until you meet her. She's soooo perrrfeeect! She's like really cute and has a dimple in her chin and her hair's a little wierd, but we can pay someone to straighten it out--Oh and she's an angel! Check it out: I met her on the beach. She just walked up and started talking to me and it was like magical from the first second. And then we drank 14 bottles of really good Island and West Highland whisky that she had, and then I guess we had sex because the next thing I knew I had a wicked hangover and God was giving me this man-to-man talk about how I had to "make this right" or whatever. That was when I really knew. "Whoa, bro; she really is an angel," said I. "Uh, yeah," said God. "So she's like magical, right?" "Well, I don't--" "So she can like, magically create bottles of whiskey?" "Well, yes, but I don't see what--" "Fuck it man; I'm in. I love her."
I'm just kidding, but, seriously--what kind of genius thought up this promotion? "Yeah...we're gonna need...a bottle of each of those whiskys...and a moderately attractive girl from in town who has hair like Don King with bedhead...and some pajamas...and...some fluffy shit and we're good. Oh fuck, boys--yeah; we forgot to bring the ocean again."
1 comment:
i laughed and laughed about what you wrote here. you're smart.
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