When I got here tonight, there was a group of seven or eight people QUITE inebriated at the bar, eating a delicous-smelling pizza. I usually hate dealing with drunk people who stay past the bar closing, but these dude's were alright, if a little nonsensical (and sometimes pretty obnoxious). I feel it's necessary to point out that one of these nicer of the fellas looks exactly like a hobo. His beard was longer than my hair, and his hair was even longer. Scraggly and pleasant to the max.
Here are some amazing excerpts:
"It's NOT YOUR FAULT, man, it's NOT. YOUR. FAULT."
"I love you, man. I love you, man. I love you, man. I can't say it anymore, but I love you, man."
"Hey, hey! How old are you little lady?" (suddenly from a completely different conversation with his friends)
"...What?"
"How oldr you?"
"22..."
"Dear lord, I got a grandkid your age. But I love you."
"I can NOT find your room."
"WHADDYA MEAN? I TOLD YA IT'S RIGHT UP THE ELEVATOR."
"I know, but with the elevator, I couldn't find it."
"Am I your singer, am I your singer?"
"I'll be who you want me to be, HAHAHA!"
"I'm...I'm a dick. No, I'm not a likeable person, I'm a dick."
"No...you seem nice..."
"Well, you're a beautiful."
"Your old man is a hard-workin' fucker."
"He IS a hard-workin' fucker."
"Your old man is a hard-workin' fucker. Your old man is a hard-workin fucker."
"Poke him in is right eye, poke him in the right one."
"I had a big hammer in my hand one time, and I couldn't beat that bitch. I don't know. I'm old-school."
"They're inbred, remember, they're INBRED. Their mother is their brother, or something."
-Wednesday
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