Tonight has long been referred to as “The Super Bowl” where I hail from. Now, I’m not sure if the name stems from mass inebriation among 21-30 year olds storming the local bar or that the Vikings haven’t been to the Super Bowl since the 70s. The former seems less depressing, at until the hangover sets in tomorrow.
A coworker at my last job used to turn off the lights while I was shitting at least once a week. Hard to say which is worse: motion-censored lighting or an asshole coworker.
Outside of maybe their mothers, who the hell are they trying to fool by having books on the bus? A group of Big Ten grads would bring a thousand cases of Busch Light and maybe some Playboys, not literature.
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I’d roll up listening to Hall & Oates without thinking twice. Flash flood warnings would surely ensue at the farmers market.
Tonight has long been referred to as “The Super Bowl” where I hail from. Now, I’m not sure if the name stems from mass inebriation among 21-30 year olds storming the local bar or that the Vikings haven’t been to the Super Bowl since the 70s. The former seems less depressing, at until the hangover sets in tomorrow.
A coworker at my last job used to turn off the lights while I was shitting at least once a week. Hard to say which is worse: motion-censored lighting or an asshole coworker.
What if the shower doesn’t take?
Love the article but one question: quarters for the jukebox? What kind of wonderful heaven is this place?
No, not so much. My initial post-grad standards were low in alcohol, literature, and women.
Outside of maybe their mothers, who the hell are they trying to fool by having books on the bus? A group of Big Ten grads would bring a thousand cases of Busch Light and maybe some Playboys, not literature.
What a grave emission not including Real American by Rick Derringer.