Come up and get me

I ask the question everyday “how do people become friends?” Its so foreign to me.

I remember being a kid at my grandmothers house in New Mexico. Playing in the empty garage. Half dark with a sliver of sunshine slipping through the door. Smooth, warm concrete under my bare feet. Bating the mini basket ball around that hangs from a fishing wire to let you know you drove the car in far enough. She kept a small stockpile of her favorite citrus soda by the side door that led into the backyard. I lost count of how many I would drink. And how many minutes would pass me quietly alone, waiting, for someone to disturb my childhood heaven.

Every lame bro business fucked up hair shitty personality slip on boot true religion wearing money loaded fake tan bearded hairy scene hipster in this fucking city has a girlfriend that is so fine. I hope they have horrible personalities

“Ok dude. Be safe and don’t booze too much, go on a hard core jog or pump iron to the new Nails. And try beating off while hanging upside down”

I’m so stoked on my new topman chinos and pants. I’m not stoked on the lame pictures I see in #topman

Time to change that