[Mandy takes care of us, we take care of the beer]
Well, my roommate Chris and I are officially 10 years old. Not only do we think the most fun we can have in a night is looking up photos of poop on the internet and sending it to friends, but we've definitely gone through enough beer in the last two days to keep any normal person drunk for weeks.
So what did we do the other night? Funny you should ask. After throwing numerous soft objects (pillows, etc) at him, I kicked Chris in the head with the feet from a Christmas novelty gift of just Santa's legs that you're supposed to put in your fireplace. This was apparently the last straw for ol' boy Chris, and he gave chase. My solution? Lock myself in the bathroom. I was in the bathroom that night for upwards of 45 minutes to an hour. He used a credit card to open the door lock, but I had the latch on. He unscrewed the doorknob from its place and poked through the hole with a broken hanger. It was only when he threatened to drink my beer that I considered coming out. He poured some under the door. I howled.
We eventually got tired of this game, just as we got tired last night of listening to old ska albums - but only after about an hour and a half. (We even listened to the Voodoo Glow Skulls.) And when he was on his way to work and I decided to go downtown too, we didn't think anything of sitting next to each other on the train listening to our respective headphones. I mean, isn't one of the more annoying things in the world when you have to commit to an entire train ride of small talk when all you want is to listen to your iPod or a new CD?
But even after all of this time we've had together since our third half has been visiting in Michigan, it didn't hit me until last night as we stumbled in the door with Taco Burrito Palace at the end of another drunken evening that we've been bonding. I didn't identify it as such until I realized that not everyone has agreed upon a code word to say into the phone if you realize late at night that you're staying over at someone's house. Others might just leave a short message, or not call at all. But not us. A code word is working proof of a new bond.
And when that code word is "Ssssexxx," you know you've made a true friend.
[Poop really IS the funniest thing I can think of]