These two marauders were up to serious shennanigans! When I pulled my bike in at midnight, the rustle in the bushes was a teetering lurker trying to keep a semblance of seriousness.
A giant piece of glass and some go-lucky pranksters, ends up in ten stitches and a mexican stand off of 'No it was YOUR idea' finger pointing. At least one Deadhead now knows the exact date of his last tetanus shot, and his Phil Lesh shirt will never be the same. An early morning casserole dish of mole, some 7-11 ESBs, Eagles of Death Metal, and a whole lot of laughter seal the night with a kiss.
1 comment:
What... Robert... stitches... NEED MORE PICTURES!
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