My Friends Mike

I must have some sort of weird radar that causes me to befriend people named “Mike.”

I have four close friends–I’ve got your back, wingman, don’t let your friend go fat, can do practical jokes involving partial nudity without feeling gay close. These guys are my drinkin’ buddies; my cryin’ shoulders; my “damn my redhead is drivin’ me crazy” ears.

They’re all named Mike. (Technically one’s first name is Bradley, but since he’s a Junior they call him by his middle.)