Me: There’s an art to cunnilingus just as there is an art to fellatio. Reed players are especially good at it.
Byrnes: What? They don’t even use their tongues that much. It’s all about the brass.
Me: When’s the last time you played?
Byrnes: Baby, that’s one skill that never goes away.
Byrnes: I think we took out the Internet with our sex.
Demetrus: Listen, man. I was in Cambridge, and I saw this girl in a white dress coming out of the Harvard T Station. The way she walked into Harvard Square, she looked like she owned the fucking place.
Byrnes: That’s my Amber!
My brain finally got tired of four hours of sleep every night. The last thing I remember was my father calling me to dinner. (Never made it downstairs.) Fourteen hours later, I wake up feeling greatly refreshed but also terribly hungry.
When it comes to falling in love there are, I think, two kinds of people. The first one who has a well-laid plan by which they seek a partner that possesses certain preferred qualities and characteristics. Upon finding such a person, they pursue a cautious and measured courtship, waiting for signs of reassurance before giving [...]
This was hanging above our heads at The Pour House. I don’t know either.
Me at The Pour House. I had a sudden desire for a milkshake. I spent most of my time enjoying it by licking the whipped cream off my fingers.
Byrnes at The Pour House for Fourth of July dinner.
