Worst Cousin

I am getting the worst cousin award for the week. Bryan came up to Madison for a football game with some friends. He called (short notice...but still called) and told me he was going to be there. Well, he arrived a bit late so I didn't get to see him before the game, but told him to come meet me after on the main strip of bars. But as it turns out I spent about 4 hours in the bar the entire game, swilling pitchers like they were one man refreshments. Things became a bit fuzzy aound that point, boozy and covered in beer spittle, I took to the streets. Surounded by a carnival of lights and a stampede of red clad fans, I cheered hard and proud. Sticky fisted from the cocktails of yore, I howled at heavens as if to punch the Gods with thanks for leaving my team the victors of the tourney (I must add that this was almost the first football game I've ever watched and I actually hate football). I wrist-punched any object that would make my play in the roar greater than the others (resulting in a bruised wrist, and erotic stares). Time passed with my elation ending with a barfy hot nausea. I began asking people to meet me at street corners that didn't exist (I don't recomend...results in confusion) and body going completely limp in the middle of the road. It was thus time for the walk home. That night I looked like a retarded man trying to swim. Bryan called, I think I was already at home; lost was our meeting. So... moral of the story: Bryan I am sorry, if you are coming up again this weekend for Widespread, give me a call, I'll make it up to you
:)Jake