YEAH, IT'S TIME TO GET AWAY FOR A FEW DAYS
Last night after Evil Michael led me astray, forcing me to drink when I otherwise would have been helping elderly nuns wrap bandages for inclusion in care packages for Senegalese refugees, a certain very cute bartender forced me to down three shots. At gunpoint. Or so I remember it.
And then the very cute bartender ripped off his pretend-face, and he turned out to be Satan. Cackling, he forced me to drink six glasses of wine. I believe that was at knifepoint.
When I complained that shots and wine really don't go well together, he poked me with his fiery pitchfork. Then he forced me to give him
To Satan--
Tu eres guapo!
--Rob Byrnes
And then I took a bus home and packed for my long weekend away from Manhattan.
Which is sort of my explanation for how I ended up with a gash on my back and what feels like a few bruised ribs, but you probably don't need to read the rest of the story to figure it out for yourself.
I have a date with Jet Blue in a few hours, so enjoy your weekend, kids!
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