KeithToday was my sleep-in day. Well, everyday is a sleep-in day, but today is the end of daylight savings. I planned my schedule around that extra hour. I even stayed up super late last night watching Comedy Central. But Keith, the asshole who lives a floor below me, forgot to fix his alarm clock. I can hear that talk radio blaring from here. I'm not due at the Obama rally till 2, but I'm already up. Bah, he always does shit like this. If only there was some way to get his attention.
Go downstairs to Keith's apartment and remind him about daylight saving time.
Use life savings to buy a brick of cocaine. Strap drugs to an actual brick. Throw brick through Keith's window while making an anonymous phone call to local DEA agents informing them of a dangerous dealer.
Do you remember the crazy clothes and hair of the 1990s? Do you remember Crystal Pepsi and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Do you remember where you hid the box your mother gave you?
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
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