Kris with a K. Kris Con Un K. Kris Bartol. Kris. A man of many names. (aka Multiple Personality Disorder, but that's beside the point) Kris is, how you say, my best friend. We shared laughs, we traded insults, he's tried to kick me out of his house (and any other building we're in together...) many times by telling me where the door is. Either way, he's my best friend and I miss him.
He's off at OSU, and I'm here at KSC. Sucks not being able to hang with him whenever I want to like I used to be able to. My texts would be along the lines of "KRIS. ZOMBIES. NOW." And he'd be over in 5 minutes. We'd kill some Zombitches and have a jolly good time. But those times are over 8[ (until Thanksgiving.)
I met him in preschool, didn't meet him again til 6th grade. We find the stupidest things funny to the point where we've done stuff that has left me lying on the floor crying because I was laughing so hard.
To the countless number of zombies we've killed, the countless number of hours we've spent on Call of Duty, the countless number of times we've seen all of the Epic Rap Battles of History (and can recite them all and remake the battles) and to the countless number of times we've hung out, this all is proof that he's my best friend and that I wish he was in New Hampshire or I was in Ohio.
Miss you, man
See you at Thanksgiving
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