Friends

Friends are a convenience. Yeah, they're really nice to have, but so is porn and I'll settle for the closest thing in either case when I'm desperate. I've had plenty over the years, although some do a lot more to make themselves memorable than others.

Steve 2
You got a real kick out of me being Steve 1 and you being Steve 2. In fact you thought it was so cool that you'd bring it up at every possible opportunity, just in case somebody in a ten mile vicinity wasn't aware. I should've taken that as a hint, but instead I actually moved in with you for a year. You yelling "STEVE ONE" at odd hours of the day was kind of creepy, but I'm pretty sure it happened a few times when you were with a girl. That's not right, man.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with you being gay or bi or whatever it is. But I don't go moving in with cute girls so that I can yell their name while I'm going at it with someone else. It's not about straight or gay, and of course I told you to fuck off when you called me a homophobe. And for god's sake, stop asking me to visit you in New York for a threesome. NO.

But you do make number one on the list of memorables.

Jules
You're the newest one on the list. I ran into you at the clinic, drunker than I've seen any conscious man be drunk before. At the damned center! That doesn't even make any sense. What makes even less sense is your penchant for climbing things when you're trashed. I said "ran into you", but I mean that figuratively because as I remember it you were yelling at me from the top of a telephone pole to beware of the "sauerkrauts".

And then you looked up where I live and came out like clockwork every Sunday at 3am to scream outside my window, tripping on god knows what. I don't have anything in particular against you, but if you show up again you're getting paintballed in the face again, and that's all there is to it.

"Lightning"
I think you said your real name is Jacob or something, but everybody at the racetrack calls you Lightning. Cause you know, that's an especially original nickname for a racer. You drive like an idiot on and off the track, but considering you always come back with a new car AND a new jumpsuit, you're obviously pretty rich.

Kinda makes me wonder how you got off that vehicular manslaughter charge, actually.