I wanted to get drunk tonight and talk to God

I wanted to get drunk tonight and talk to God. Have a few words, if you will. I started the night at one of my favorite venues: a Mac Powell (Third Day) concert. I had two VIP tickets, one unused. Being a cheerful get-ter this year, I wanted to be a cheerful giver too, so I gave my ticket away to someone totally out of the blue. They could then meet Mac Powell at the meet & greet before the show. Swell. Only, I gave them my ticket too (they were inseparable). Didn’t figure it would be a problem, for I had already showed the ticket at the gate (1), as well as at the entrance to the VIP section (2). I wanted to drink tonight and talk to God because sometimes you cannot win for losing. As my proclivity, I sing with an almost guttural voice. Remnant from my preaching days. I sang so loud, in fact, one of the people in front of me turned around on me, and said quiet down. I told him, “just turn around dude.” So he did… and then got up and like a petulant child “told” the attendant that I was being obtuse (or something???). So, the guy came down to my seat/chair/bungalow, and requested to see my ticket. Remember, however, I gave it away (Christmas cheer, mind you). So… Bradford gets kicked out of the (Christian) concert. Damn it. I wanted to get drunk and talk to God. But I am still sober. Barely.
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I wanted to get drunk tonight and talk to God

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