Brunch

After a 22-hour long date with Joe involving NCAA men’s basketball tournaments, king crab legs as big as my arm, copious quantities of alcohol, cigars, weed and a crazy blowjob, I met my girlfriends for brunch. It was all very SITC but with less skin and nobody was wearing a trashy gold necklace.
Joe was making coffee that morning when I got a text message from Vix:

Vix: My tummy hurts. It’s been partying like it’s 1999 all week.

Me: You too? Dude, I don’t remember going to bed, and I’m starving.

Vix: Me, too! Should we have brunch?

Me: I’m leaving Joe’s place in 10 minutes and I’ll call you. I can’t find my shoes and there’s come in my hair. Let’s go someplace nice!

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