lex and i were pretty beat when we got back into town, and it was prolly close to 5 or so.
bein the hungry lot we were, we hit up the far side.
at least i think we did.
my mind is farting right now (ew) cuz i can't clearly remember which day is which. fuck, i hate when that happens. surely, it has nothing to do with the fact that i drink 600 vials of alcohol on a weekly basis. compounded with the fact that i use terms like "vials" and "compounded" in my blog.
mm.
