Then it was time to celebrate active hater of my blog, Tyler Lopachin’s 21st birthday. We went to a couple bars, and by the time we walked into a second one, some rowdy Boston peasants were telling us that they got Osama…it was just uphill from there. I ended up spending the night hanging out with a friend at emerson watching the developments on the television and rejoicing in the death of a terrorist. We blew up the Death Star. We destroyed the T-1000. We won the Nascar 500. It was a collective victory. Pretty soon people were busting out the Charlie Sheen chants. I decided the time was right in the morning. It was time for the Egg Mcfuck at Dunkin.
I don’t really remember how good it was because I was coming down from “euphoria” but I remember really appreciating the tiny specks of pepper. The bread tasted like sex. I guess. I don’t know. I’ve eaten a lot more bread than I’ve had sex, so I might have to draw a more normal comparison somewhere.
Did I mention that I finally got the giant fucking Thor cups? I think I went to around ten 7-11's trying to find them. Did I succeed? Yeah I did. We drank out of them after haggling with some dumbass 7-11 employees who thought we were trying to con them out of slurpees the night of THOR at midnight. Which was pretty entertaining actually. I’d give it a solid B.
I’d give this post a solid C. It’s far too normal.
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