In my high school we rural kids would go out to a dark country road and get wasted. There was plenty of beer, usually I would have at least a twelve pack. We had weed, we had cocaine. When you couldn’t stand you could go sit in your car. Often a cheerleader, a quarterback or a big defensive tackle was right next to you. We were all bonding. There was a lot of love of living on that road. Soon we would graduate, go our separate ways, not realizing those were our glory days.
summer, when it is over
it’s a bummer.
so I,m going swimming
I’ll get a tan.
I’m going to fire up the grill
then lay in the sand.
I love the sun
but I don’t like to sweat
grab a beer and a doobie, you bet
We are the men of Easton B,
the raiders of the night.
We are dirty sons of bitches.
We would rather fuck than fight.
We were singing our floor’s theme song.
Nobody showed up for our keg party and five of us are trying to drink a half keg.
They said that after my twenty-first red Solo cup full of beer I ran up and down the hallway wearing only my socks. I had lost touch with reality.
They said that I tore a sink off the bathroom wall.
I had no idea.
They said I put a motorcycle helmet on and knocked four holes in the walls and broke two windows. They threw me in my dorm room closet and blocked the door with my desk. The next day I woke up with a stiff neck.
I gave up drinking for three days after this.
We were the men of Easton B, the raiders of the night.
We were dirty sons of bitches, we would rather fuck than fight.