John, thanks for stopping by last night, but most of all, thanks for the beer. I woke up today at around noon, made an egg and cheese omelette, cleaned up a bit, and downed two or three beers in rapid succession (I can't remember if I gave you a beer last night or not). Anyway, I'm a lightweight when it comes to those things now, so I got drunk, but not before remembering that I had to go to the library for a research paper. I thought about driving there, and getting pulled over for driving drunk AT 2'O CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON, and how absurdly awful that would be, so I elected to sit tight instead. No big. I'll go tomorrow, but the thing is, you saved me. See, I was supposed to meet up with my ex tomorrow at the Metropolitan Museum on 78th. It sounded like a good idea when I made the plans, but now I realize that it wasn't in my best interest, but in my cock's best interest--and my cock is the dumbest fuckhead I've ever known. Now I have an excuse for cancelling and all thanks to this ridiculously smooth beer that I can't seem to find
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