Friday, May 27, 2011

Fuck if I Know

The drinking began at noon. There was no stopping squirrel and me, we were on a train to Drunkenville and we weren't stopping until we hit belligerent.

The first game was to take a shot or rather, a "big gulp" of Smirnoff (there were no shot glasses in the house) when one of the characters on the Real World did or said something stupid. Well there were only 15 minutes left on the show but somehow each of us managed to take 5 big gulps before the show ended.

Apparently, the Real World centers around imbeciles...

Anyways, by the time we had finished our "adult drink" (it was really just straight vodka with apple juice chaser) We decided that we were in dire need of more. So we solicited squirrel's roommate.

Mission accomplished. We retrieved more good stuff, managed to run into a baby hippo and continued on our trip to wait for it... Drunkenville. For seasoned drinkers like squirrel and me, there was no way in hell 5 "big gulps" was going to get us belig.

The rest of the baby animals eventually flocked to squirrel's apartment and we no longer felt like alcoholics.

I mean you don't have a problem if you do it with other people, right? RIGHT.

The Bulls game was the source of our entertainment and we prematurely celebrated a Bulls win. A. We wanted to drink more. B. Who doesn't want to relive their childhood through watching the Bulls win the golden ticket.

My hopes and dreams were destroyed by the fucking Miami Heat. However, I consoled myself with the obnoxious amount of liquor in the apartment. The weed also helped.

As the lines between being socially acceptable and brazenly obnoxious blurred, I found myself in another apartment listening to a heated conversation about whether Drake will be remembered/considered a musical icon of our generation.

Of course, this generation in a lot of ways is despicable, however, I highly doubt that Aubrey Graham or "Jimmy" from the Canadian teen melodrama Degrassi, will be the Marvin Gaye or John Coltrane of this generation.

If he is, I will change my birthdate to some indiscriminate time in the 60s.

This day/night which consisted of consuming massive amounts of alcohol and cannabis, unlike Drizzy, (ugh typing his name is almost painful) IS a sufficient marker of our generation.

Yes, this rag tag clan of people I spend my time with do what people like Drake only try to do, they live life and conquer great feats.

In simpler terms, they Get Money, Fuck Bitches and best of all remain professional.

In the words of my idol, the gleaming, shinning, pinnacle, better yet ICON of his generation:

"After all we are professionals"

Long Live Hunter.

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