Thursday, July 1, 2010

Cigar Time with the Bros

Got a bachelor party for my TB4L this weekend. Probably be some of this going on.

Hoooboy! A novelty sized, dirt-flavored cigarette that I can't even inhale but still gives me cancer anyway? I'm in.

What a phoney bonding ritual. No one even enjoys it, and yet here we are going through the motions at a bachelor party or poker game or whatever it is regular dudes do. (I wouldn't really know. Not because I'm too good for that shit, I just don't have any friends.)

You've never seen so many people standing around pretending to enjoy something. Not unless you spend a lot of time in art galleries. It's the epitome of obligatory bonding. Let's just punch each other in the nuts, call each other fags, and go back inside where the tv and food is if it's all the same to you guys, ok?

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6 comments:

Anonymous said...

"Let's just punch each other in the nuts, call each other fags, and go back inside where the tv and food is if it's all the same to you guys, ok?"

Pretty universally useful suggestion.

Anonymous said...

you dudes wanna pack into a room and do some farting? oof, the worst. "Same one that Fidel smokes.." jesus fucking christ everyone & everything

said...

haha. good call. dude time!

said...

i ain't smoking no ceeegar. mark it down.

said...

we'll see about that, i'm bringing a bushel. a bushel? a box.

Joz's landlord said...

The rent-a. Give me-a the rent-a! I like-a you guys-a, but the bank-a. They need-a the money!

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