If God was one of us...he wouldn't buy 3.2 beer on Sundays eitherJ's birthday didn't go so well.
Horribly, to be polite.
I spent days, even weeks (ok, about 15 minutes in the store talking to the salesman) picking out his birthday gift. A beautiful, not to mention expensive golf bag. Yes folks, you heard me correct, a golf bag.
Now as pathetic as this may sound to you or I, it was what he was hinting towards for a good month and a half prior to his birthday. So, I was excited to give it to him. Until he called before he came.
"You'll never guess what my mom just got me for my birthday, a golf bag!"
"Yup, why do you sound so depressed? Did you get me one, too?"
Although it did end up he liked mine better than the one his mom gave him.
Later, when it was beer consumption time, we both realized that neither of us had bothered to purchase the beer. Of course, in Colorado a.k.a land of the Jesus freaks-no beer is to be sold on "The Lord's Day". Fuck!
We settled for 3.2 beer, which is just a better way of getting rid of the elephant piss @ the zoo for profit. We guzzled down 2 cases of Budweiser "The King Of Beer" before our genius thought hit us like a Mack truck...let's eat! So within 4 hours we devoured 48 beers and 1 1/2 pizzas.
J and I began watching Ocean's 11 before we passed out. I couldn't tell you if it was worth the 4 bucks or not, so don't ask for my opinion. All I remember is George Clooney telling me he loved me, and J screaming "Where's Bernie Mac? In Vegas?" at 4 in the morning.
God save the souls of those who drink on the Sabbath day.