Have I mentioned I don't have my tombstone yet? Well, I don't. And it's a little annoying.
Take what just happened, for instance. I'm layin' here, admirin' that nice Texas breeze before the hell that is Texas summer oozes in, and all the sudden I got malt liquor pourin' on my grave! I look up, and I see this punk dressed like he's from one of them rap videos on the tv, and he's "givin' props to his fallen brother!" Meanwhile, his buddy, who's across the way waitin' for his tombstone, is havin a hissy fit because I'm "stealin'" his respect!
If gettin' splashed in the face by bad alcohol is what passes for respect in that generation, no wonder all you kids are a bunch of fuckups!