Look, I know the picture is too long. Chill.
The line stretches from the front door to past the apartment where Chandra Levy used to live. There you go dude. Now go back to bed.
I also saw someone in line I used to respect. But I didn’t say hi. He doesn’t need me to add to his embarrassment of queuing up to see The Reflex at 7am.
Update: The last two entries have made us sound distinctly anti-St. Patrick’s Day. We are not. We just dislike our drunk friends insisting we go to overheated bars and asking that we entertain that troll-looking girl while you talk to her traffic cone-shaped friend.
UpdateII: Alright. I'm sorry; the girl did not look like a troll.
3 comments:
at first, S. and i took one look at that line and desired water pistols, or water balloons with rooftop access. We have now altered that decision, and we want bags of fake $100 bills and gold dubloons that we can throw to the masses, and watch them scurry for the money. Like we were Puffy or something, helpign the commonrs, but not. Also, maybe we'd wear eyepatches, which doesn't really have anything to do with anything, but we thought it might be fun.
ps, girl-basher. those girls last year were nice. drunk, but nice. no need to call them trolls. or traffic cone shaped. even if it is truth.
Count me in on the dubloon throwing. I've even got my own eyepatch! And maybe I can talk to my neighbor and see if he'll let me borrow his parrot for the afternoon.
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