Braheem Brice

WOOOOOOOOOO Friday Night NIGGLES! Guess how much alcohol will be consumed tonight.

|This Much|

   Sorry Brochacho's, this kind sir will be up programming tonight.I'm kind of like a Chocolate Bill Gates. The best thing about having no life, is that everyday is Saturday. So today means absolutely nothing in the scheme of specialness. It is one of the joy's of being 20, too young to drink, to old to get in trouble for it. Don't get me wrong, I love alcohol. But it is better when it enhances an already awesome situation, rather than making something tolerable. What the hell am I going to go do? Go to some sketch ass house, around sketch ass people, drink some cheap ass vod-beer-karum, and hit on unattractive girls I've known and seen at parties for the last 5 years? Can't wait.
 
  Now I am not bashing you sonsofbitches that go out and do exactly just that. There is nothing wrong with it. Every now and then, of course. I've hosted parties that were exactly just that. I'm just saying. I live in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Anything that can be done. I have done to the point where the Horse was not only dead, but reborn, killed, and beaten again for good measure (You can never be to sure.) I've done it all. I know your counter arguments (I like arguing with myself.) "Well you don't have to go to dirty houses. Just hang out somewhere chill with your buddies."

True. Small Parties> Monster Bash any day.

But the magical thing about friends. They grow up too, and they have there own Friday Nights to worry about. The ones with a future have much more important things to do than what I previously stated, and you generally outgrow the ones that look forward to getting smashed every single weekend. If you have puked more than three times in the last fifteen times you have drank then you have failed miserably at life. I hate puking in general, and my body basically told me to knock that shit off when I was, oh, about fif-fucking-teen.To this day, I know people that say they haven't accomplished a night of proper drinking when they could still remember/controlled themselves.

Go ahead, kneel. Pray to your Porcelain God. Kneel at his Majesty's holy lips and expunge your sickness into his Holy Water. He knows your Sins, and he is all forgiving with a simple flush. He will be there in your greatest time of need. Remember him when you need him least, and thank him. For he is there when you want him the most. He is a fair, and true God. Yet... I am steadfast in my Atheism, that I understand his holy water is to pamper my Shit. That is right, I Shit on your Divine Emperor, with much pleasure I may add. I know that true Men don't kneel before his .

They grunt.