Boston Massacre

I know. I haven't posted anything in a while. It's that end of the baseball season race where the winners get seperated from the losers and after the recent Boston Massacre, I know where my team lies - with the Chess club kids who get made fun of by the AV kids.

 

There was a tug at the heart this past weekend each time I watch Damon come up to bat:

 

We went for a beer and I proceeded to order way too glasses of Glendivich 18, neat.

Damon: you all right man?

Me: F.. you, ass.

Damon: I thought you were my friend?

Me: I hate you. You're dead to me.

Damon: Remember that time we all dressed up to look like cave men? We can't forget the good times. That's all we have.

Me: (Visibly drunk and slurring) Here's a $50 (throw it at Damon. Falls over a little) Thanks for the good time, whore!

(Damon slips the money in his pocket, downs his beer and leaves crying)

Me: Good riddence. Bartender, give me another scotch and one for my invisible center fielder.