Last night I got plowed with two of my all-time best friends. We grabbed a pizza pie, a 12-pack and some other stuff and went to the river. Somewhere along the line we picked up some crazy-ass Mexican who just got out of prison.
Once we made it to the shore (gravity did my walking for me) we got crazy-baked, ya know?
Check out the skyline-pretty lights and such. Ooooo...shiny...
"Sploosh!"
Woah- that's a beaver that just caught it's dinner. The moon provides the perfect lighting for us to watch. This is about as close to beautiful as things ever get: pie, beloved pals, moonlight and animals. And a Mexican.
So the 'Maxican' (hi-5 2 max) grabs me by the arm and says "let's take a walk". I figure I have about 60 seconds to live. My two pals are already writing my obit- or creating an alibi-not sure which.
Me: "Dude, if yer gonna kill me just do it now, 'cause your cheesy Elvis sideburns are hurting my laughing bones so much I'd welcome the euthanasia."
Maxican: "I scared you. I did. " True.
This went on for a while.
Turns out that Maxican is a straight-up world class guy and a hilarious master of BS. Awesome!
We laughed so hard we had to hold on to each other just so we wouldn't fall down.
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