Champagn from a Paper Cup (I)

 The speaker may be blown but Death from Above still had that sexy flair that this old piece of junk needed to stay in my garage one more year. Nothing like flying down a dirt road, arms flailing, ears bleeding. I should know. But now that I’ve got what could be called an ‘actual’ job, I should probably stop playing childish games. Childish games like seeing how many red lights you can run through in how little time. That is a tradition though. When I got my first car, this car, my dad told me the story of how he and his friends played this particular game shitfaced drunk and high on adolescence. I guess he was trying to scare me. So, of course, the second Jared got over we cracked open a bottle of jagermeister and slammed the gas. What a night. 

-David