January 13, 2006 Double Pee Stain It was a long weekend in Miami and six people were staying at my house. The usual occurred. We got retardedly frat-drunk, and my friend Gilbert kept getting kicked out of bars. I have to escort Gilbert home and no one is answering my call to come pick me up. Now I know how it feels to be a fat chick at 11PM on a weekend. Gilbert tells me he wants to walk. I try to calmly explain that it is at least four miles, but we all know when a Jew wants to walk somewhere they will part seas to get there. So, we start on our kike… I mean hike. I literally feel like I am hiking because I am wearing Gilbert like a backpack. I guess he considered walking manual labor.

We walk maybe a mile and Gilbert starts puking. Luckily, I am able to flag down a cab. I am trying to get in when Gilbert is like, "Fuck THAT! Now I NEEEED to walk this off!" After some squabbling and slap boxing, I finally turn around and thank the cabbie for stopping, but decline his service. By the time I turn back around, Gilbert is passed out in the bushes. Now I become irate. I start shaking him around, slapping him, lightly nudging him with my foot, and looking for a well to throw him down. A couple cars pulled over thinking I was killing him (they will never understand our love). Finally, I called a cab company, and threw Gilbert (still passed out) in the back of the cab. I let him sleep on the couch in my niece's playroom and he pees on it. The perfect end to the perfect night.

The following night we all go to this club that was the spot at the time. We had reservations, but we get there late so we are forced to buy four bottles (aka. expensive) but who cares it is party time. We get in and start going to town on the bottles. For the first time in my life I also happened to have brought out a bunch of girls, so it's a pretty good time. Then my friend Louis starts stumbling around like a retard in a house of mirrors. It was time to take that animal home. I drive him home, pulling over for some fresh air and vomiting. For cutting my night short, I figured I would reward Louis by letting him sleep on the couch that had been peed on the night prior. I tell him to wait a second while I go drain the snake and when I get back, not only is he sleeping on the couch, but all he is wearing is the shirt he went out in and his black socks. A couple of hot, I mean indecent pictures later, I put gym shorts on him. By the next morning, he had peed the couch.

I would classify the entire weekend as frat to quite frat. I am not sure I ever said anything to my parents about the couch either. I may have blamed it on my niece or something. Moral of the story, if one of your friends is obliterated enough to have to leave a bar early and he asks to sleep on your couch, your answer should be one word: "Depends..."

posted by Captain Holler 3:43PM