Full disclosure: I grew up in Virginia, and I recently wrote this about a Xmastime Sunday brunch slice:
LOVE BARGE – Big Dipper
Super-slice. Period. Just occurred to me, is this band named after Wilt Chamberlain? Wasn’t that one of his nicknames? Interestingly enough, Wilt and I do have one thing in common. He famously slept with 20,000 women, and I famously pissed the mattress at Spring Break ’95, after which while we were out the maid put the mattress outside our door to “air out”, ensuring that every single hot, horny chick down in Fla for some cheap, anonymous fucking would know who Piss-Boy was and make sure he would spend the night in his room, alone, watching the NBA playoffs instead of hittin some skins. Jesus, where does Wilt stop and I begin? Bizarre.
So...I cannot help but feel as if the entire race boils down to, you know...me. A burden, but one I welcome. Remember: with great responsibility comes great loads of
I accept (bowing head solemnly.)
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