Pour Some Out
liquidlou
Published
04/05/2012
Two years ago my best friend died. I had known him my whole life. We were born on the same day, in the same hospital, just two days after our other best friend in that same hospital. Plus we all had Jaundice and were kept for a couple days at the hospital. So if you believe in Look Who's Talking (it's bible to me) then it is safe to assume we were all talking to each other in that Jaundice room.
So back in the day, we would get into all kinds of shit. Mostly just stealing alcohol and getting drunk in the bushes, getting in fights, things like that. He was great to get drunk with because he would always tell you how much better you were than everybody else, and he was giant so people tended not to fuck with us. He is Native as well, and he got his money every month so we always had spending money too, without having to work. Our senior year of highschool we had a different cologne for every day of the week, and we tried to wear a new pair of socks every single day of the year. It lasted about 3 months, and I had a lot of those socks for years. After my parents split up, we decided to dig a pool in my backyard Encino Man style. It turned out to be just a big hole in the yard, but man we thought it was gonna be the greatest thing ever. I come from a very small town and nobody had a pool. Also, nobody had a giant teenager made crater in their yard. But the girls were all about the effort and we milked that as long as we could.
He lived a crazy life. He had a lot of demons. When he was 7 his mother was stabbed to death by her boyfriend in front of him. Because of this, his gram raised him. I'm pretty sure this is why he didn't really give a fuck and would do crazy things and fight. But going out to his grams house was always dangerous because her dog never left the porch, and loved to bite. Going to his house was just accepting that you were going to get bit.
So today is my friends birthday. And this morning his gram passed. Kind of a shitty day. So if tonight, or anytime actually, you find yourself near some alcohol.....take a drink for my friend and his gram. I am taking one this very second.
Drink and be merry, for our time on earth is short, and death lasts forever.
Happy birthday buddy.
So back in the day, we would get into all kinds of shit. Mostly just stealing alcohol and getting drunk in the bushes, getting in fights, things like that. He was great to get drunk with because he would always tell you how much better you were than everybody else, and he was giant so people tended not to fuck with us. He is Native as well, and he got his money every month so we always had spending money too, without having to work. Our senior year of highschool we had a different cologne for every day of the week, and we tried to wear a new pair of socks every single day of the year. It lasted about 3 months, and I had a lot of those socks for years. After my parents split up, we decided to dig a pool in my backyard Encino Man style. It turned out to be just a big hole in the yard, but man we thought it was gonna be the greatest thing ever. I come from a very small town and nobody had a pool. Also, nobody had a giant teenager made crater in their yard. But the girls were all about the effort and we milked that as long as we could.
He lived a crazy life. He had a lot of demons. When he was 7 his mother was stabbed to death by her boyfriend in front of him. Because of this, his gram raised him. I'm pretty sure this is why he didn't really give a fuck and would do crazy things and fight. But going out to his grams house was always dangerous because her dog never left the porch, and loved to bite. Going to his house was just accepting that you were going to get bit.
So today is my friends birthday. And this morning his gram passed. Kind of a shitty day. So if tonight, or anytime actually, you find yourself near some alcohol.....take a drink for my friend and his gram. I am taking one this very second.
Drink and be merry, for our time on earth is short, and death lasts forever.
Happy birthday buddy.
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