We were drinkin' with puck he drank a 5th of rubber. he told me that he loved me. and then he kicked me in the chest. the chances of us winning are about 1 in 16. he talked about the old days and the legions, there were many the crew "4-5-6" sum cheap n mother fuckers. and how it was totally fucked. we were drinkin' at the froggin' with "2000 dirty squatters" (a band). we didn't want to fight them, so instead they beat each other up. the squatters don't have money, but at least they don't have showers. so when they're drinking they don't piss. we didn't think much of it. the moral of this story... don't use your better judgement. cause what good is an evening if you can't even remember just how it was totally fucked?