And the very best part: cover charge and bottles and wells.” After initially calling bullshit, PWJ finally convinced us that this Lost City of Cibola did exist. Jon Benet summed it up, “And I used to think there was a bright line between a gentleman’s club and a brothel. But as the departure date loomed closer, some of the group started taking dives. -Brownhole is basically a pussy and a sycophant and was afraid that being arrested with us would ruin his political career. -Credit was dating a girl who Sling Blade once referred to as “The most evil demon-slut in the long history of female chicanery and deception.” Credit is a spineless coward and wanted to keep dating her, so he begged off the trip.Now you’re telling me it’s just gray…” This place was called Baby Dolls, and going there became our Holy Grail. -Golden Boy bailed because he had just returned from a week long trip to Russia and didn’t want to be apart from his fiancée for so much time. -Jo Jo made the same decision he makes whenever he sees a bunch of crazy white boys run off to get in trouble–he went the opposite way (see e.g., The Night We Almost Died and The Tucker Fest Disaster [coming soon]) -Jon Benet had the most ridiculous excuse.Luckily he follows his penis around like a divining rod, so he promptly cleared his schedule.-Sling Blade’s busy schedule included drinking alone in the dark and jacking off to his Star Trek Limited Edition Seven of Nine poster. -El Bingeroso had already planned a trip to visit a friend in Austin so he combined his trip with ours, and then got his fiancée some sort of shiny trinket to distract her from his new plans.While his age (3 years older than us) gave him a wisdom and maturity that none of us yet possessed, under this composed and compassionate exterior, PWJ could be the biggest snake of the group.
She did not possess the same integrity, so she cheated on him. And didn’t tell him until he went down to visit her and noticed that guys kept coming by her room, asking what she was up to later that night.
I recalled a childhood colored by parental instability, multiple divorces, re-marriages (seven between my two biological parents), step-parents, constant relocation and emotional pain.
No one cared about my problems, because they had already read about my father’s most recent divorce in Time magazine, and didn’t need any more details to know I was fucked up.
Early during my third year of law school I was sitting in the library with my crew of friends, skipping class and trading stories about our summers.
At first, I was the center of attention having just come off the summer of The Tucker Max Charity Auction Debacle, but PWJ quickly trumped me.