Dude the fucking cinnamon rolls wtf, why? Why? I don't give a shit if the waitress had hairy nipples and a mustache, or the fact that they both had almost constant and continual contact from kitchen to plat to expo to table - I like to think the post menopausal breastmilk leakage and sagging, unavoidable "feted" tit sweat added that extra somethingsomething to the whole thing.

Like waking up to your dad yelling "take the trash out" while he walks by your room,stopping to - "shake off the ball water" (imagine machine gun airguitar strumming your teste's after a fresh shower...you get the damaging mental imagery?
Good...good.)

Memories...amiright?