there was once this guy named mario, who i met 5 years ago at loyola. my freshman roommate, we roomed for 3 solid years and is one of my bestest friends in the world. i remember making him drink vodka for the first time when his girlfriend rosemary was giving him a hard time. i made him bottoms up the submarine as well (shot of tequila in a glass of corona). long distance relationship? been there, done that, now stop crying and drink up! hey, what are roommates for? he puts up with me walking around semi-naked in our apartment, while i put up with his boyband slash britney spears music and paraphernalia. i saved his ass from his family while he was off cavorting in new york for countless times during the year. late night mickey-d runs, gym-fests, and random drunken barbecue sleepovers.. we are always out for adventure. i have your back bro, even though your mother saw pictures of me running around the sunken gardens almost naked the night before graduation.
birthdays come and go, but remember that i’m always here to drink with you, cook you breakfast, or let you crash in my bed. cheers to your old hairy mexican ass. happy birthday mario ;)