Josh G, angry and smelly
Last night was one of the best live sporting events I’ve ever been to. My company sent me to a playoff game between the Mavericks and my beloved Golden State Warriors. We pulled out the victory of course, but here is one thing I could have done without.
I’m going crazy, yelling, cheering, having fun with everyone, but not in a drunk obnoxious sort of way. I didn’t have enough cash on me for beer, so I was able to enjoy myself sober. I think I was the only one, but I was just fine with it.
Why, then, did a beer come flying out of nowhere and smack me in the face, then proceed to spill down my shirt and pants?
I am less than excited getting back on BART smelling like a fucking bum’s backwashed 40 leftovers from your stank ass cup, Mr. Beer Hurler.
I’m sitting there thinking about how I’d like to take a hot iron prod to your char-grilled face so that your head cheese resembles a culo death bilonker fondue parade, and I know full well why no one wants to stand within 5 feet of me.
I get in my car at the end of the BART trip and start driving. Lo and behold, the cops have nothing better to do than pull me over. Clearly, the smell of said booze is infiltrating their collective canals and my pants are about to have a chocolate party.
I take a sobriety test because your drunk ass couldn’t hang onto the drink. I know exactly how expensive those beers were, so I have no idea why you spent it on me. I hope you’re sucking suck a jilted nut bust silo while I’m explaining to a 3rd cop why I am covered in beer and reeking of Bud Light.
The Warriors cap saved me, I tell you, but it won’t save you next time you try to throw your beverage.
Rantasaurus Says: Same thing happened to me a few weeks back. The cops pulled me over and I kept trying to tell them… I reek like booze because I’ve been drinking for 27 hours straight.
