Trying to clean up his act, Hal says:
Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for,by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer.
(Henry IV, part 2)
Reminds me of these little beers this guy who I worked with at the liquor store drank. (Awkward sentence). They were four inches tall and called Little Kings. One night after work he gave me one and we hid behind the dumpster and drank them. He was a giant. His name was Mike Witt. He died suddenly last year from choking on a piece of steak at a picnic. He was such a weird and great person. When I left Minneapolis I had a party. At the party I did a running jump and he snatched me up and shook me around. He also loved GWAR and the Feta and Bows pasta salad from the cheese shop.
Soon. Again.
No comments:
Post a Comment