A Penny For My Thoughts
My good friend Jizz called me up on friday and invited me to some dumb broad's birthday party. The night was looking rather bleak, so, I agreed and changed the color of my shoelaces to match my hat. Fix up, look sharp. Apparently, a lot of people were supposed to show and it was this big deal and all. This I never understood because I remembered the girl from elementary school and to be quite frank - she was an utter moron. To ensure a good time, I called up my old pals Murda Mike and Killa Cam with promises of an exciting slammer jammer. Mass amounts of beer and whipped cream were naturally purchased shortly afterwards. Drunken cheers and friendly handshakes were received at the front door. And then the hostess appeared.

"Wayne!? What in the hell are you doing here? Last time I saw you, you put a live snake in my microwave, you bastard! That was five years ago and I haven't even seen you since."

"The snake was still alive? Shit man, I clocked in something like five minutes. What a trooper!

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, it was still alive. That snake bit my grandma when she went to cook some pizza pops."

An attractive girl from across the room gave me a lascivious wink and I blurted -

"It was Camilo, not me!"

After Killa Cam got kicked out, I proceeded across the front entrance in order to locate Jizz. The house was fucking packed. I could hardly take one step without bumping into like a hundred people. Finally, I found Jizz chilling on the back porch and we cracked open beers in celebration of the dumb broad's birthday. A few beers later and I was having a damn good time. I met a number of interesting people and not to mention a couple of remarkably attractive girls. At one point I was journeying through the kitchen to get another beer and some jackass spilled his cocktail all over my favourite shirt.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry! It was an accident!"

How about I accidentally kill your entire family.

"Whoops!"

I accepted the harsh reality that accidents did indeed happen sometimes and it was just my time to fall victim to one. Anyway, I went to get the brew and headed back to my designated spot on the highly populated back porch. Murda Mike was pounding a case of beers through the beer bong and I considered pissing in the funnel. Nah, too many people around. He was so drunk you could hit him over the head with a baseball bat and he wouldn't notice. An old friend asked me to roll his pot into a joint and offered a free smoking for compensation. I reluctantly agreed due to doubt in my rolling ability while being so hammered. Overall I did a pretty good job, but I think I spilled like half of his shit on the porch in the process. Oh well, accidents happen, right? The party started to die down after a few hours and I was beginning to say my goodbyes. Just as I stepped out the front door I heard the distinct sound of a beer bottle smashing over a man's head. Across the street, in the middle of a field, several groups of people were battling with intense fury. I darted across the road and attempted to assist anyone familiar on the field. Soon enough, I realised all the guys getting beaten were unfamiliar. My friends were dominating, but one of them was literally squirting blood out of the side of his head. I ran over to him and sat him down because he was too drunk to even notice the massive wound engraved in his skull. He calmed down and we wrapped a t-shirt around his head.

"I need an ambulance, man."

Nextdoor neighbours heard all the commotion and within minutes police cruisers were flying in from left, right and center. I disappeared into the shadows. I was gone like the wind, baby. After a clean scene flee and a seemingly fast stumble home I noticed that I was completely covered in blood from helping out my friend. When I got inside I made a sandwich and went downstairs to watch television. The sandwich tasted like copper, it reminded me of childhood days when I sucked on pennies. I had completely forgotten to wash my hands of the blood. Gross. A cannibal by mistake, a vampire, a psychopath. Maybe I'm being too hard on myself. Afterall, accidents happen. Now I'm probably going to die of HIV for trying to help someone in a time of need. Figures. How could I possibly forget to wash my god damn hands? I feel like I'm being sent to hell for accidentally stepping on a toad. Oh well, that's just the way it goes, I guess. Hell can't be that bad. I heard Satan has some killer weed.