"Shotgun Mikey"

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile.
"You don't have to love me but let's get high awhile"
"But try to understand....try to understand....
Try, Try Try to understand....I'm a Magic Man." - Heart

Here a real muddied up version of Manchu- a wizard I doodled
on a bus ride home from Boston one weekend....It got shmudged
by my heavy handed lead from the opposite page...I coulda cleaned
it up in photoshop I guess, but fuggit, I'm lazy!
I'm sending a Happy Birthday Shout-Out to one of my oldest friends- Mikey Z!
He's officially 39 today, so he's still a year removed from his
"Harrison Ford Mid-Life Crisis Earring Kit:"! Ribbit!
Anyways, a quick Miguelito Zeta Jones story so the masses can see what a stand-up
guy he is: When I met Mike in college back in 1986, he was as fresh-faced as they came...
(think Steve Carell from the 40 year old virgin) I mean, the lad had never had a drink in his life!
We cleared that hurdle soon enough! A few years had passed and one summer I invited him to come to a summer camp I was working in New Jersey. There were a lot of people from England who worked at the camp gratis for the plane ticket stateside. These sassy English lifeguard babes were throwing a party in their cottage that evening, so we made the beer run into town. Somehow a dude in the car convinced Mikey and I to eat an entire Entenman's Pound Cake before the party.
"It'll absorb ALL the alcohol! You can drink ALL NIGHT LONG!" (all night.)
That night we taught Mikey Z how to shotgun a can o' beer.
(For those who haven't ever shotgunned- You punch a hole in the side of a can of beer. You place hole to your mouth. You open can. Beer flushes down throat like Tide-D-Bowl Man.)
He was a freakin natural.
The boy, to the encouragement of the entire room ,shotgunned an entire six pack! I had to take him aside and let him know that we hadn't quite tested the "Pound Cake" theory yet and maybe we should slow it down a bit,
but later on that evening, I saw him putting away a coupla more! I coulda sworn I saw him crush a can against his forehead after finishing one of them.
We all know how this story ends....
I finally find him a few hours later outside leaning against the cottage as if he was holding it up.
I gave him the courtesy- "You o.k. dude?"
Then his body just gave this horrible shudder/convulsion lurch and with a cry of
"WHHHOOOOOOARRRRGGGGUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
the entire contents of the night
shot out like a riot hose. He turns around to me, eyes wet, and says-
"Never again, dude.....never again.....
WHHHOOOOOOARRRRGGGGUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(Wonder how I'm gonna fit 39 candles on a pound cake?)