Assholes Finish First Read Online Free

delusional.”
    Tucker “To be the man, you gotta beat the man! WOOOOOOOOO! And at Campout, I’M THE MAN! WOOOOOOOOO!”
    I proclaimed sovereignty over Tent City for another ten minutes in various different ways, and after vowing to return the next day to continue my rule, we went to bed. After twelve hours of dedicated drinking, we’d finally hit our wall.
    The Next Day
    We didn’t wake up until around 2pm. Once we beat back our hangovers with a 12 pack, SlingBlade came upon this one RV with an awesome spread of food—not just cheap hot dogs and sausages, they had gourmet shit. Judging by the quality and quantity, they were those rare type of grad students who actually had real money of their own, not just government loans. This can mean only one thing: business school tools.
    In order to go to business school, you have to have worked for a few years and been good at it, so most of them have money saved. As a result, they not only have cooler stuff than the rest of us, they think they are better’n everyone. I decide to fix that for them.
    I moseyed over, grabbed one of their bottles of wine, and started chugging it. A girl gasped out loud.
    Tucker “Well, I’m sorry, your highness, but I happen to think wine tastes better out of a bottle!”
    The entire group looked at me like I had just dropped a steamer in their shrimp platter, except one girl who laughed, so I talked to her.
    FunGirl “So you’re the bullhorn guys? I heard them planning your demise this morning in Tent City.”
    Tucker “I will crush their puny rebellion. Blood alone moves the wheels of history!”
    As I housed their food and hit on the cute girl, SlingBlade tried to run interference before our inevitable eviction, but one bitchy girl was quite persistent:
    BitchyGirl “Your friend brought a bullhorn to Campout? I mean, who does he think he is?”
    SlingBlade “You must be lucky enough to not have met Tucker.”
    BitchyGirl “Why is he drinking our wine? And eating my pâté?”
    SlingBlade “He has what the DSM IV refers to as Narcissistic Pesonality Disorder. Also, I believe that he is out of beer.”
    I think the fact that I was flirting with her friend actually pissed her off more than me drinking the wine and eating her goose liver. She was the type who would cockblock endangered pandas at the zoo.
    BitchyGirl “Can I ask you a question?”
    Tucker “If you wonder whether you’re fat, you probably are.”
    BitchyGirl “Uhh… no, what I wanted to ask—”
    Tucker “Yes, you could stand to lose a few pounds.”
    BitchyGirl “And you don’t think you could stand to drink less?”
    Tucker “Daddy drinks because otherwise he can’t justify having sex with you.”
    BitchyGirl “Have sex with you? HA! You wish!”
    Tucker “You can pretend you aren’t into me to keep up appearances, but you know you’re moist right now.”
    BitchyGirl “UGH! I could not find you more unattractive. You’re slurring your speech, you have a shirt on that is two sizes too small, is covered in mustard stains and says FRONT LOADER on it, you reek of cheap beer and sex, and you clearly have a drinking problem.”
    Tucker “Drinking is a problem only if you’re
not
good at it. To me, everything you listed is proof that I am
very
good at it.”
    BitchyGirl “You disgust me.”
    Tucker “I will not apologize for being awesome.”
    At some point we found ourselves at the Porta Potties. SlingBlade went into one, but I had to wait because the other was occupied. He came out laughing.
    SlingBlade “I just dropped a deuce that could sink the Titanic.”
    Tucker [
I was so in shock, I put the bullhorn down
] “You took a dump in a Porta Potty? What is wrong with you?”
    SlingBlade “Alcohol has made me impervious to your attempts at shaming.”
    The guy in my Porta Potty came out. As I opened the door to go in, I recoiled in terror.
    Tucker “OHH! That is AWFUL!”
    He started walking away, like everything was just fine and dandy.
    Tucker “Hey