When we last left D.J. he had just fallen through a glass table at a makeshift summer party at Adam’s grandparents’ condo. Blood was flowing freely from his fanny (again with the alliteration?) and he was waiting for the dopey ambulance EMTs to find the home. They had pulled into the wrong complex.
Why My Friends Call Me The AssMan (aka Stitches and Poo) – Part II
I'll probably show you the scar if you ask nice enough.