When I was dating a woman in my post-college days, I would always tell her stories about the juvenile, immature, borderline criminal stuff we did in college. She'd always want me to tell her more stories, saying she'd never really done anything in college except attend class and study. What the F#%k?! We did everything in college EXCEPT study. Well, that's not entirely true. We played hard, but we worked pretty damned hard too. One night Wanda and I were at a party and she asked me to tell everyone a story from my college days. I took a slow sip of beer as I pondered her question, trying to buy myself more time. This could go one of two ways; either I'd be the dope guy at the party with a cool story, or it could go sideways and I'd just be the dope at the party. But they persisted. There was no way getting around it. Plus I'd had a few drinks so what the hell, I dove right in. I pulled out all the stops telling the best in my arsenal of stories, and when my opus was complete..."You should put that in a book," someone shouted over the applause and laughter.So that's exactly what I did. It's all here: the good, the bad and the ugly. Call it what you will: beer-laced nostalgia, midlife crisis, misguided, bad idea. Who's to say? To me its just some stupid shit we did in college.
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