Good thing the A-squad was on the clock last night, huh Bozeman.

Three fights that I know of were stamped out by Kyle, ShirtShop, Bouncer B.O.B., Sergeant Tim Lucas, and who the hell else knows. I am a little sore still, but probably not as sore as I imagine the dude who hit Grif and my new cracked out buddy to be today. We need some gotdamn cameras to document this stuff at the bar I swear. Especially when Grif “can’t move” at the end of the night and Waldo gets deputized for cooler stocking purposes.

All is well that ends well, I suppose. The Bobcats managed to beat a Div I-A team today, which I am hoping will renew the crew’s interest in tailgating. Kiboko’s are still two bucks at the Hippo, and the internet is still awesome. Case in point:

I think the crew could use a chill night. Stay tuned.

2 Replies to “Coeds”

  1. the first to admit joe? maybe the last to admit that it was fucking retarded. k fed deserves no sympathy or ease for his ear bleeding raps and nauseating stage presence. i want those five minutes of my life back. ya hear that k-fuck, you owe me five minutes of my life you talentless fuck-stain, yeah that’s an owen shout out. word. biddy

  2. ok, i was drunk and ranting about kfed, but the rub is that i posted in the wrong column. hey, i dont claim to be brit hume. apologies for the innacurate and blatant kfed smack. pleaze pretend that last comment was meant for the column u r reading. crack is wack peeps. tb

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