The sinking ship

These were three text messages I either sent or recieved, that, upon rereading them, has brought me joy:

No red light. I hate prague no one is going to sing Karaoke. We are realy drunk. I am going to sleep in a park. I hate this shit.

~~Text I sent to my friend The Todd (aka, The Game) after he asked whether or not we were still on for Karaoke at the Red Light bar last Saturday.

We are reeealy drunk. At some bar. We are going to burn down Praha. We are the middle children of history man. We're not your fucking khakis. You are beautiful.

~~ We had watched Fight Club the night before. I sent this text to my friend Nikki in response to her question of "Where the hell are you guys?" We were at a bar drinking way too much tequilla. 58 shots between five people. I was sick three times and was kindly escorted home by my girlfriend.

Don't know. I've been drinking wine and sucking dick since I saw you last. I do know that Prague is a sinking ship.

~~This is a text I recieved from my friend Katie after I asked her if she knew where her roommmate Jeff was. A clear example of too much information. And we have taken to calling Prague "the sinking ship" ever since.