Flatbush.
If you’re in a funk, I can personally attest that the best way to snap yourself out of it is to gather your BFF and go to a blue collar Irish bar (preferably while being young and female). You will undoubtedly be treated to a menagerie of old drunken men that will get you totally faced, ask permission to grope you, and talk shit on your ex boyfriend for no reason. Prepare to stumble home tanked with an arsenal of bad jokes and a craving for burritos, feeling confident. Or violated. Or both.
Ok nevermind. This won’t make you feel better, but do it anyway for the riddles.
Update: I have been informed by a coworker / lifelong resident of Flatbush that this joke is, and I quote, “old as shit.” I am no longer cool. Sad face.
1 Comment
April 22. 2009 at 1:36 pm
Hahahahaaaa this is exactly what happens to me every weekend… only they’re not old.
It’s disgusting and hilarious at the same time. Thank you, Iowa.