Miller requests immediate exfil.

Today: +4
Days Rated: 131
Average Day: 2.21

Today I mostly lounged around, recovering from the debaucheries of last night, and playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. I bought this game when Amanda and I went to the mall the other day. I had fond memories of playing it with Hyatt and Petre, back when we were at Ft. Bragg and lived out of wall lockers. We only had one TV and one PS2 between the three of us, so we would take turns. When your character “CJ” (Grove Street Families for life, fool) got busted or wasted, it was the next guy’s turn. The game was as good as I remembered it. It’s so savage to run down the street spraying bullets at people who walk too slowly or policemen, or driving 100 mph down city streets, staying on the sidewalk, unfortunately for pedestrians. Basically it’s how I’d live my life if there were no laws or consequences.

Anyways, in between webcasts of BBC radio, or reading the Wall Street Journal, Miller has been griping that he needs to get laid, even if it’s with a fat girl. If you remember last weekend, we went to Last Frontier and he desperately searched for the swinger crowd. Tonight, I drove him out to the bar in my rental car. This was only fair because he’d driven me around many a time. He told me that he’d be calling me for a ride home around closing time. I went to sleep with my phone on my nightstand, half knowing that the call wouldn’t come. It came at 9, the next morning.

“Hello?” I said in a stupor.
“Coach, you have to come get me out of here,” came Miller’s voice in a hoarse whisper.

He needed to say no more. He’d undoubtedly fallen into the clutches of a Star Jones lookalike. I sped off in a cloud of smoke to extract him from the hot LZ. When I got to her apartment, I whipped the car in a hot 180, never doing less than 75 mph. Miller dove out the second floor window in a crash of breaking glass. He hit the ground, rolled, fired several well aimed shots from his pistol into the window, dodged a tentacle, and managed to get in the car while I was peeling out of there. On the ride home he claimed she “wasn’t really fat”. Yeah. OK.


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