phil michael and i were smoking cigarettes and listening to old boston punk records last night. around 11 we left to go to the country club because at midnight it would be my birthday. we were a block away when we got the call that sully was at my house. he had just arrived in new york. becka hopped in a cab from hell's kitchen and was there to meet us in ten minutes. i wanted to do a carbomb so we all did them and they tasted so good.
