Thoughts from the Wagon

After five beers I can do calculus. And I've never done calculus. I am so loose, I can moonwalk up a flight of stairs. I am so sure, right now, I could shoplift a Kayak. Five beers into the night and I'm Muhammad Ali, only I'm shooting pool, and every shot is willed by destiny to fall.

After five beers, I promise to meet your father. I will shake his hand at the door. With a five-o'clock shadow and my sweatpants covered in grey dog slobber, I'll look him square in the eye. And with five beers drunk out of the six-pack under my arm, I'll offer him to split the last one.