[Ed.: NS for anywhere that does not dispense Thorazine and straight jackets.]
So I am crawling into a bed somewhere. Someone is already there. It’s Ruth from back in college. Big tits, big mouth. Hasn’t aged a day. Why is SHE here? I don’t really care, because: topless. Boobs in dreams are the best. But sweet alabaster-skinned Jesus, this is about to get, uh, strange.
Getting a semi-hot date you have absolutely no chance of scoring with 40 minutes before the party starts?: $20 (for the tickets, dipshit). You can get shot down for free anytime you want, and pretty much every time you don’t want.
Cheesy award from Scott (which you keep for 25 years) because you at least didn’t go stag, thereby beating the over/under : Obviously priceless.
The pic is from a different banquet, although the girl in the red dress could very well have been my pity date from the award. ^^
Sit back with some high gravity malt liquor, a pack of Camels and a revolver. It’s you or the stereo. One of you is not walking out of here after this aural assault… We are the Mutant Dog Fuckers. The official Phi Sigma Kappa metal band of June 1986.