These last couple of days are going to drag on forever. Slow as molasses, as I like to say. Actually, I hate to say that, and I hate the saying in general. The official inventory for the trip is as follows, as received via Instant Message from D.P:
Memphisbball89: 3 bottles barberosa, 4 bottles burnetts, 1 bottle jagermesiter, 2 bottles of aristocrat, one bottle everclear, 10 cases busch light, 2 cases budwesier
***I'd also like to add four beers from my secret stash here at the crib***
Alcohol taken care of, I can now worry about other things. Such as, how to stay sober enough to not do something I am going to regret. It's going to be extremely difficult. I don't even enjoy talking about this, so I'm going to move on.
The train, known as my 2008 Scion tC Coupe, will depart approximately 9 a.m. on Saturday morning. It will make a short stop at Krispy Kreme, upon which we will be thoroughly stocked with free donuts from my boy Rashad (Jonny?) Walker. From there, it will embark on the shortest route to Ocean Isle beach, which is yet to be determined. 74-East? I know that goes toward Wilmington. Could be the best bet. I'll do my research, you be damned sure of that.
Upon arrival, I shall sit my ass down on the beach, beer/liquor in hand, and chill like it is my job. This will mark my slip into intoxication, a state I shan't rise out of until the following Saturday, whereupon I have to make the depressing drive back to civilization.
But I won't think of that now. For now, all that I have ahead of me is seven says of sweetness.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment