Yo, What’s Good, Bruh? It’s Me, Your Drunk Voice!

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Yo! What’s good, bruh? It’s been a minute. Where you been? You too good for you friend, huh? I haven’t you seen since Dad’s going away party. Man, those old dudes from Goldman Sachs can throw a rager. That shit was lit! On the real though, how come you don’t come around no more, bro? Aye, have you seen Chet, the mu’fucka owe me like a stack, bro. For real! I mean that, he literally lost two G’s to me at the regatta last week. I can’t believe that fool thought Weatherly was going to win the Around the Island at the New York Yacht Club Regatta this year. Jay Schachne is scrub, that dude couldn’t skipper a damn paddle boat. 

Honestly, bro. Have you seen Kendall tonight? I’m trying to hit that. Imma just hit it once though, you know how I do. Nah, I’m just playin’, I do love her with all my heart and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with her. Kids and shit, all that, bro. I just wanna be a Dad, you feel me? Like be there for mine, na’mean? Not like our Dad, that deadbeat trifling ass sorry excuse for a man. 

Oh shit, yo. Brent’s got that loud, my guy. Like that shit is straight gas, bro. For real. You down to blaze? I know you are! C’mon one man. There’s nothing to worry about. You know the po-po already been pulled me over for DUI like fo’ times and ain’t nothin’ happen!  On the real, big ups to uncle Jeffery and his plugs in the DA’s office. Those dudes came through in the clutch. Those are some day one, homies. Ride or die shit, you feel me? On that fourth time, I thought I was gonna have to do a bid, bro, but those dudes stayed loyal to Jeff’s campaign donations and I’ll never forget that. One day, when my trust fund kicks in, I’m gonna put them all on, for real, man. Even Clayton’s skinny ass. Like word as bond, those dudes are gonna be set for life. 

Anyway, if I don’t see ya for a while, be easy, bro. Love you, man. Don’t be a stranger, for real. I miss you, homie, we used to kick it all the time, man. I miss that. I’m tryin’ to tear up Mom’s Daughters of the American Revolution dinners again, dog. Alright, alright, I’ll let you go, man. Peace out. 

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