Because We’re all Fourteen Year Old Boys at My House

The Redheaded Kid: “Yeah, I never see folks from high school unless I come across them at a bar.”

Me: “Oh, gross, man, don’t be doing that kind of shit in public.  Save it for private, for the ladies.”

The Redheaded Kid: “What?  Oh.  Whatever.  Do you know how expensive gas is?  I do what I’ve got to do for tips.”

Me: “Well, don’t be coming across me, just because I’m sitting here in my pajamas.”

The Redheaded Kid:  “It’s going to take a little more than that Walmart get up to get me to bring my floor show.”

Me: [loud fart]

The Redheaded Kid: “That’s what I’m talking about.”

2 thoughts on “Because We’re all Fourteen Year Old Boys at My House

  1. Oh, he’s already scoped out like eight ways from his place to ours and knows when all the traffic patterns are at their lightest. We might see him for breakfast or only during the day during the week or something, but we’ll see him all the time. I hope, anyway, I’ve come to love that kid.

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