vudus

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This day starts off a any oher normal day: we grab a botle of vodka and hit downtown where scholars are waiting for us to get wasted.

Lucky me there’s some left from last night, so we make a quick detour onto te public library’s bathroom and say good day sunshine to our itchy noses

‘I love the smell of junkies in the morning!’
‘You’re some hellish son of no sorry jolly bitch now ain’t ya!’

Abey dain’t hear me, or so it seems, and we just head down to this private ed inst on where we normally meet our underage friends and talk ’em out of later classes. No hard convincin’ job that is.

We got vodka, let’s hang–
—I’m in.

Moms and paps sing proud songs someplace far.

[interlude:

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Abey & I have been hangin’geter fae some time now. No short for Abraham or sorts– just Abey. As in Hey Bet ye can’t gulp that absynth filled glasse in a sip! or A’babe will ya spare a dime or some mair in exchange for sips of the cognac we’ll hopefully get from it?

And there we are when the cops come: two ol’ time (not that much I’d guess) junkies pissing on cheap vods in our toon’s postcard plaza with these legally-drinking impended kids a couple of hours before noon. IDs are passed thru, radio calls come & go and they tail off gifting warnings:

-Should drink at the bars, all oaf ye. No need to get the neighboors calling us everyday. Also, it is illegal to drink in public spots like this.
-Fae real?
-Yes. We just don’t care. Hope not to see you again ’round here.
-Hear ya.

We chop a farewell couple of lines and stroll off in search of new hangouts.

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