Quote:
Originally posted by notcasesensitive
There was a ridiculously popular (for no good reason) bar in Dallas called The Thin Room. It started out with that name because it was a long and narrow bar, but the erratic cokehead manager decided it should be related to the quality of the women showing up to the place (granted, goodlooking post-SMU chicks went there to meet and be groped by past-their-heyday frat boys like Sebby (no offence)), so he painted a sign with a no sign around a picture of a fat chick. People continued to flock in for no good reason, so then he added a sign right next to the no fat chicks one that said Sluts Welcome. He also printed up tee shirts that said Sluts Welcome and No Fat Chicks. Classy?
[this post had no point. this is not my best material.]
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Anything beats a discussion of botox. I have that with my mother in law every three weeks.
If you think I'd last 20 seconds in a bar full of ex-SMU betties, you don't know me. The only cat I knew from SMU pulled a shotgun on my friends. Jackass kept mumbling some shit about "messing with the cattle and getting the horns." God, I hated that douchebag.
Now THAT... that had no fucking point.