Miller owes me more than a dollar. All that time wasted, clutching the turlet bowl on sunday mornings from drinking too much of that stuff the night before. Emotional damage from all the awkward one-nighters and waking up with farm animals. I passed out on a couch that my housemates had loaded on the back of the truck the next morning and proceeded to drive me around town running errands...with me wearing boxers and a wife-beater.
College was a very interesting time in my life. I don't remember much of it, but what I do remember is **** like that. Pranks your buddies played on you when you were passed out. Good Times....you know what, Miller. You can keep you dollar. I'm making my own beer now. Yeah, that's right!