When I was about 17, a friend who I had been like brothers to died of testicular cancer. A couple of weeks after the funeral, a mutual friend and I happened to be at a party together, sat down in a corner to drink his memory and finished a handle of jager in about an 90 minutes. Later that night I passed out on train tracks that were close to the party while looking for a place to piss, I guess. A lady saw me there, pulled me off and laid me out on her couch to sleep it off.
