T and Pup's Fabulous Vacation!

I've been working for four days straight which can really run a brotha down. So I decided to take Friday off. Called up Pup, got a full tank of gas in my make-believe-tricked-out '94 Ford Escort (I have a few faded Dragonball Z stickers posted on my car that make for some fly ground effects) and headed out to Bankhead. Yeah, I don't think my car make it to Europe and back on one tank of gas, so I had to economize.

Friday June 4 2pm
Pup: T, WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!

2:30p
Head out to Waffle House on Mt. Zion for breakfast. Pup ordered a double order of hashbrowns s/s/c/t/d (I had to talk him into the peppered) which he didn't eat it. Good for nothing stuffed animal...wait I ate his meal with a side order of bacon! Hmmmm! Bacon!!!

3:15p
Driving around Hapeville to see if my ho's are still working it. Suddenly Bo-Bo rolls up and ask me for some weed.
Bo-Bo: Got some weed?
I act all innocent and stupid like I don't know what the hell he's talking about even though I have pink-eye and reek of Mary-Jane.
T: Nah, man. Talk to those guy over there.
Turns out the "guys over there" were undercover cops. Gotta hate it for Bo-Bo. So we leave Hapeville.

4pm
Now we're riding down Metropolitan Ave. (Old Skool Atlantians will know this street as Stewart Ave. Enough said.) This time I aint pimpin' out no ho's, I'm trying to get one to turn a trick.

Pup: Damn, T. Its four o'clock in the afternoon. We still gotta go holla at Tony, get a belt for Ski, kick Nikki's ass, play craps with Shane, holla at Monique, check on your baby mama, pick up L and get to Club 112 before midnight. And you know your ass needs to eat like four times. Them Stewart Ave. ho's can wait!
Damn. Pup's right.

Fastforward
We do all the stuff Pup mentioned and managed to evade po-po along the way. Its like 11:30pm. Where oh where did the day go?
We're getting into our club gear at L's place. Oh L is Leroy. A real smooth cat from around the way. I think he's working on a new jazz album. You might want to check him out.

12:15am
We're at Club 112. Everybody, I mean everybody is getting their freak on. The DJ got his beats on, the bartender got his drinks on, the girls on the dance floor got their booty on, the playas in the house got their mack on. Smack-ity smack! There aint no better place to be right about now!
The three of us get down and do our boggie until 7 am....

Oh damn. I got my stories wrong again. Four years ago it was me, John and James at the Nike Pavilion until 7am. Two nights in a row. Rave till dawn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I've never been to Club 112. And weeds grow in your front yard. Hate weeds!!!