Originally Posted: 2005-01-11 13:42
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To the guys that found me on their doorstep - 12/17/04

If you are one of the guys that found my drunk ass passed out on your doorstep in a pool of my own vomit, please e-mail me so I can repay your kindness. I am sure the last thing you guys and your girlfriends expected to find on your doorstep the week before Christmas was some guy sleeping in his puke. I know that if I had found me passed out on my porch, the least I would have done is steal my stuff and pushed me over onto my neighbor's porch or something. But no, you didn't steal any of my stuff. You didn't draw on my face with a marker or shave my eyebrows off. You didn't beat me up, and you didn't give me a haircut. You didn't jam anything up my ass or take compromising pictures of me naked with shit jammed up my ass. You didn't push me down your stairs (how the fuck I got up your apartment stairs is beyond me) or dress me up like a girl. You didn't put disgusting shit on me or take turns pissing / spitting / jacking off / pooping etc. on my face. You didn't call any gay guys or ugly chicks to come take advantage of me. You didn't kidnap me, put me in your trunk, and drive me out to the middle of nowhere and leave me. And last, but certainly not least, you didn't even call the pigs out to come haul me down to the pokey where I deserved to spend a night drying out in the tank. Now bear in mind that this is all shit I would have definitely thought of doing to any choad I found passed out on my porch, but no, you took my stuff out of my pockets to identify me, took a picture of me passed out to commemorate the occasion, and then you called my girlfriend to come pick me up. I don't remember you guys. I don't remember you guys helping drag me down your stairs and loading me into her car. I don't remember anything accept wandering all fucked up around Campbell and crashing some girl’s birthday party I stumbled across and then blacked out somewhere along the line. I only know the story of your charitable deeds from my girlfriend who recounted the events to me the next afternoon when I woke up. Anywho, that kind of compassion is very rare this day in age. Therefore, I would like to compensate you for your troubles, but my girlfriend doesn't remember where you live. So if you recognize the below picture as being the drunk jerkass that was passed out on your doorstep, please send me an e-mail with a brief description of the contents of my vomit or some other details about that night, and I will PayPal you the money that you should have rightfully stolen out of my pocket - $20. Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity.

El Borracho




post id: 55275612