Miracle on 49th street

this is an ode to those nights when you shouldn't have biked home... to those times when you made it safe back to yours but you can't quite remember how you got there. when you got through the door just in time to make it to the bathroom, and you know that you didn't really deserve to make it home unscaved. cheers to the angel who rides on your shoulders; somehow, all's right in the world...

^ he probably wont remember writing that.

Depends where he wakes up.

And who with.

I hear what you're sayin', Teddy... How's the head this morning? ;]

It won't be the morning when he gets these :p

oh my god, i'm epically hung over. seriously... one of those mornings when i swear i'll never drink again. ugh...

(i like that i get slightly poetic when i'm pissed to fuck though)

haha amazing op!

I know Joe, and possibly a few others, and defiantly not myself will remember the 1st (or 2nd) lfgss track day, I turned up still drunk from the night before with 3 bottles of wine I had aquied for the total of ten English pounds. Horrible stuff. the track day progressed with lots of drunken yelling then off to the pub, where my memory gets hazy, but I do remember being on top of one of the tables yelling about how America saved britten from communism while joe pleaded with the god 'ol southen london boys not to murder me. Some how I made it home on my bike, fell up the stairs, saw g, she said "chris your drunk" i walked out onto the roof, puked my guts up, then woke up on the roof at sunrise. that was a glourios night.... I wonder how much plane tickets to london are these days...