Letters To Friends

Letters To Friends

Peter, ya fat fuck! It’s your neighbor Rodney, ya know, the one from that Halloween party. Where in the Carmen San Diego have you been? I called your phone like 15 times, cost me like a thousand quarters. No joke. My phone is dead FYI. I’ve been settin’ up shop in this payphone for the last couple weeks. Smells like piss and vinegar, hold the vinegar.

First off Peter, I got a question. If a girl says she’s a guy, does that mean I’m dating a dude? Get back to me on that, it’s about a girl I like.

Listen Peter shut up, I don’t have much time. You, Peter, are not gonna believe what happened to me last night.

Peter, last night I went to a college party. I kid you not Pete it was cool times at Ridgemont high pal.

Anyway, here’s the scoooobs. So last night we are all over at Dougs tree house right, on account of his wife kicking him out of the normal sized house. He’s showing us his new painting, which is total dog shit. I still didn’t have the heart to tell him that crayons aren’t paint, but hey ya win some, ya Doug some ya know what I’m saying.

So I’m slamming some odoule’s like a big boy until we realized, durp, we’ve been duped. Apparently O’doules is a trick beer for nerds. So I’m livid, Kevin throws up, no one knows why, he leaves early. One thing leads to another and the next thing we know were all playing strip spin the bottle in the tree house.

It’s Nuckin Futs. I don’t partake in it because A, it’s all dudes, and 2, I’m embarrassed by the way I smooch. Also my face was all bloody from being hit by that car 30 minutes before, but that’s a different story.

Anywhofromwhoville, I duck out of the tree house to find some snacks to munch on, because I can feel my blood sugar dropping like the stock market, AND can we pallleeeease talk about that by the way. But then I remembered, Darp, Doug’s kitchen was blown away by the hurricane last night, what luck. Next thing I know I’m on the ground face down. Apparently I passed out mid rope and face planted in some dog shit.

But when I come to and wipe the shit off my eyes, that’s when I spot it. The neighbors house through the fence. And I kid you not Pete, they’re having a…college party in there.

So I decide to tell the guys what I saw, and they get super pumped. We decide to pretend we’re a bunch of college boy hunkz looking for good times and pussy. So we trot over there in football jacket disguises and enter the party.

The music is out of control. It’s so loud and it’s horrible and a lot of it scares me to be honest with you. It’s no Peter, Paul, and Mary, but I guess it’ll have to do.

We get a few steps and we’re approached by some of the young football hunkz. The blonde one in the group says to me, “Do you know anyone here?” And I say, “Please don’t hurt me”. He says, if you can chug this beer faster than me, you can stay”. I said, “I hope it’s not an Odoules”. next thing ya know, I won the competition. He accidentally handed me an empty beer, the fool. But now all of the sudden these dudes think we’re hip.

We start rippin’ shots, slammin’ beers, smokin’ doobs, punchin’ holes in the wall, eatin’ crackers, playin’ catch phrase, I mean it’s out of control Pete. I haven’t been this fucked up since my son’s bar mitzvah. Ya remember the one where I was suppose to be the DJ, but I ate my ipod thinking it was a Klondike bar.

Not important. So we’re hanging with the Danny Zuko’s of the world when a hoard of blonde vixens catch our eyes. They come over and start touchin’ my buns. They invite us all to “go upstairs” with them. You know I’m in. Classic gang bang scenario if I’ve ever seen one, which I haven’t. Unless you count that one time I caught a bunch of dogs fucking in my Volvo.

Things started getting pretty hot and heavy. The ladies are kissin’ my neck, touchin’ my balls, way hard, super painful. Then they start to undress. Starts out super Baywatch, but then the gal I’m with whips out a huge ass DICK. But I’m down to try anything once. Or twice. Maybe.

Next thing I know the cops come, so we bail. I’m still lit up like Christmas cake, running through the woods like I’m Forest Gump’s Dad or some shit. And I think I blacked out, because when I woke up, I was in my bed with bag of flaming hot Cheetos stuck to my face, a monster energy drink in my hand, and a remote control in my ass. It was just like College.

So anyway, that gal with the dick from the party keeps calling me now and I guess I really just want to know if she’s into me. So if you can let me know Pete that’d be great. FYI I ran over your mailbox this morning, it’s not my fault, someone put black paint on my sunglasses and I thought I went blind for like 50 minutes. Insane. Alright buddy, I love you.

Rodney
312.654.7891
Sherwood Oaks Los Angeles, CA 40489
Owner & Creator & CEO of Light Niche, lights for just a select group of people.