Thad Hagan. My brother. Its ya birthday and I am coming to take shots. Not asking. Telling. Lock the door if you want, I know where the spare key at.
Now look at this picture cause this is the one I am putting up every year till one of us drop. Matching shirts. Sundays Are For The G’s. Him in the backwards cap doing the lil point at the chest like he came up with the shirt himself. Me in the red bucket hat, red shoes, cause if we gone match I am gone win it. Whole stadium behind us, cocktails tent, strangers walking through the shot, and we still ended up with the best picture in the parking lot that day.
Thats how it be with him tho. Loud, matching, in the middle of everything. You dont go to a game with Thad and stand in the back. You go to a game with Thad and by the third quarter he done made friends with a whole section and somebody name Dave is calling him bro.
So happy birthday my boy. Get the cups out. I am bringing the bottle, you bringing the excuse for why you cant hang no more, and we gone see who right by midnight.
Love you. Now answer ya phone.
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