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But, whatever, I was there to have fun, and have fun I did, getting my drink on and noting how much my tolerance has dwindled in just one short month away from nightly Jose Quervo and Budweiser binges. Needless to say, a good deal of Sunday was spent in bed watching old MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 tapes and filling my gullet with sustenance to replace the greasy diner repast that erupted from my soused guts and into the bowl in a chunky, technicolor fantasy at around five o’clock that morning.
And on that charming note, doesn’t Tracey the Waitress Goddess look fetchingly elfin in a Robin Hood cap?
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1 comment:
I knew that diner hash was a mistake. -Jes
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