So, here’s a thing about me: If you’re my friend, at some point, you will receive a text from me that says, “You like big balls.” This is regardless of gender or sexual preference. It’s to keep me entertained, and I think we can all agree that that’s safer.
Anyway: This weekend, my pal Cedric got his MBA, and the Mouse and I journeyed north to Lincoln Center for the ceremony. We stayed sober throughout and were rather quiet, but it was a long ceremony, and well, one gets bored.
About an hour in, I started texting the Mouse.
Me: You like big balls.
Mouse: Your mama likes big balls.
Me: Your balls like big mamas.
Mouse: You are a bad person.