Nolan…

Nolan.

Whew.

I can safely say I’ve never had more stories with any one individual. It’s hard to keep this entry from becoming a novel. Thankfully the Fireworks, the night with Jon and the tranny from New York are all already in their appropriate entries, which helps to cut it down a little. Nolan I were never best friends, but we damn sure relied on each other often, and thusly had many adventures together. We will most likely continue to have adventures for the rest of our days. I suppose the best of the stories was also the most recent.

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Kevin…

It’s hard not to say Kevin’s last name. I’m almost afraid to write such a piece out of fear that he may come after me for outing him as the single greatest warrior ever to bless this Earth with his presence. I kid, of course, but that has always been how the Great Kevin started. I met him during college, and my jaw dropped when I found out he was the better part of a decade older than me, or is it I? Either way, somehow Kevin became the person we put on a pedestal. Patrick, Tyler, Scott and myself seemed to love to treat Kevin like the modern day Chuck Norris. I believe it had something to do with his refusal to take the title. Anyone refusing such an honor absolutely must deserve it. Tyler and Scott came up with the Kevin Klap.
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Courtney…

I met Courtney at a karaoke bar called Trader Todd’s. We drunkenly hooked up. No sex, just a little PDA in the back of the bar, a thing I often do and often regret. She gave me her number and assured me that I didn’t have to see her again if I didn’t want to. I texted her that night requesting that she make it home safely. Over the course of the next two weeks, I attempted to arrange for a second meeting but various conflicts arose. Finally she found a free evening come Saturday night. That Friday she texted me saying, “Not gonna lie, I’m kind of excited to see you again.” I felt pretty bad. I didn’t really feel any emotion toward her. She was merely an attractive woman who loved my hair. Regardless, my need had more control than I did, and Saturday night made it all right when we met at some bar that had cheap enough drinks so I could purchase a few for myself and her with the money I obtained from donating plasma.
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Chad T…

Chad was a wild one. His stories rivaled my own. And I thought Spoons was bad. Chad was like an angel who swooped down just in time while we were in the middle of casting for the indie film that never was. A character plagued us. We couldn’t find a Tyler. Tyler was a character who was foul mouthed, disgusting and downright as rude as can be. Everyone who came in held back, or just simply didn’t make the cut. Then one night, while at a party for one of Dalton’s friends, a man entered carrying a cardboard cutout of Paul Giamatti. Where he got it, I didn’t care. He had a lord of the rings tattoo on his arm. This man was Chad. I listened to him tell disgusting stories all night that included way too much menstrual blood, magnets clamping testicles, and everything in between. It was great. This guy was Tyler.
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