Last night started out with a bang, when I found out on the way to bowling you aren’t supposed to text while going 15 miles over the speed limit. But since I don’t look gross, the cop was nice and was like “instead of a ticket, I’m going to give you a stern talking to.” Well thanks; boy O boy did I learn my lesson! Like most #skark events, the night ended with drama, and amazingly enough I was not at the center of it this time. It was a nice departure.
Anyway, so back to my Florida trip, on the 4th of July I saw my dad and some of the firemen I grew up with at his station. Then my bestest friend since middle school, Gay Mike aka Poodles, threw a party at his apartment. With fireworks, pharmaceuticals, booze, and enough homosexuals to fill up a Pier 1 we had a blast, literally. We aren’t sure if the apt place turned the sprinklers on because of the commotion we were making or if was on a timer, but either way we were angrier than a stripper with a C section. Maybe they should’ve kept the sprinklers on and then we wouldn’t have blown a hole in the chair. Oops!