A Little Bird ToLD ME!

Throughout my life I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Well….let me step back. Throughout life, I’ve done things I’m really proud of but there have been lame individuals who have not understood how awesome the tasks actually were. For example, about a year ago I entertained gentlemen and rollicking times ensued.

<<<<<<<FLASHBACK>>>>>>

An Doof Ass: Sweet hallelujah, I’ve never had a better time.
Working Boy: Oh come now, you’re an illustrious academic whose star is on the rise.
A.D.A: Yes, this is true. I’m a god among non-gods in sweater vests and goatees.
W.B.: Clearly.
Decent Opinionated Fellow: You’re a real class act, as failure goes.
A.D.A: Buy me drinks! I grace you with my presence only when my parents buy me plane fair.
W.B.: You bore us all!
A.D.A: Here’s the thing. I’ve really classed up my scene. I have a social networking site now and eat mussels regularly.
W.B: I eat mussels three times a week.
A.D.A: Really? Tell me, W.B., what is a mussel?
W.B.: It’s a kind of cheese, duh.
A.D.A: Well I certainly feel better!
W.B.. and O.D.G: You’re a terrible lush bag.
A.D.A: Yes, but only for a little while longer.

The night progressed typical fashion. Women were shunned for their lack of refinement and A.D.A. was dragged away from both fat chicks and elderly.

W.B: Let us return to the Egyptian Cotton and highballs.
A.D.A: I’ve been to Egypt!
D.O.G: Shut up and drink your Irish car bomb.

Upon returning to the accommodations. A.D.A. passes out with a cigar in one hand and a glass of vodka in the other. His last words were “I’m going to kick this.”

The gentlemen then enjoy White Horse scotch and a discussion of investment opportunities in the Peru. The night lingers and they decide to raid A.D.A.’s luggage for potentially useful vestments for the upcoming cold. Slippers are found and placed in storage.

<<<A FEW WEEKS LATER>>>>>>

W.B.: Do you like your new slippers?
Elegant Sufficiency of Woman: Whatever. I hate you.
W.B.: But those slippers that were too small for a men’s feet, how are they one your women’s feet?
E.S.o.W: They're fine. Go buy me wine.
W.B.: The slippers are yours!

<<<<<<<<<<<<<YEARS LATER>>>>>>

Working Boy realizes the futility of his ways and becomes the Renaissance Urban Sportsman. One day, he’s going through bags of winter clothes for the impending chilly months.

R.U.S: What’s this? Why it’s the slippers I rightfully took from A.D.A. What a douche that small footed man/child is.
E.S.o.W: Where are my slippers?! It’s cold you pathetic waste of my trust fund.
R.U.S: Here they are precious. Wear them in good health, as your death will render me bankrupt.
E.S.o.W: Oh these slippers are wonderful! I shall wear them always.
R.U.S: Can I borrow 5 dollars for food?
E.S.o.W: Fuck you. By the way, these slippers ‘rock.’