On my 23rd birthday I was in Las Vegas and got thrown, literally, out of a place called Pluto's. I was walking around downtown Vegas, back when it was a fun place and not the canopied police station it is now, and a homeless guy asked me to buy him a bottle. You could buy a bottle of Mad Dog, a bottle of Night Train and a half pint of vodka for less than five. We sat in an alley and drank and talked boxing; I woke up in the alley. Life was good, having no sense.
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