Sunday, November 30, 2008

Stay Classy, East Orange

Oh hai! I am back now from my recent adventures in the tri-State area, which involved hanging with the niece and nephews, visiting old friends, and spending an uncountable number of hours on the New Jersey Turnpike, which was as awful as it has ever been tonight. My god.

I'd like to recommend the Ramada Inn East Orange, which was not the Murder Hotel it was reputed to be at all. Very much an Aggravated Assault/Possession With Intent To Distribute Hotel instead. There was one working elevator and the hallways smelled vaguely of urine, but the random gatherings of Eastern European men in the lobby were friendly and "warm" for Eastern European standards. One of the hotel staff paused this morning to ask me a question I don't get a lot: "Are you with the music group?" No. No, I was not.

Anyway, I'm back, and I hope you Redskins fan appreciate to hilarious way I drove in to Manhattan to go to a club and straight up goad Plaxico Burress into shooting himself in the leg. Already people are asking me how I did it! Well, it was a simple process, really. See, I knew that Plaxico carried a piece with him at all times. So, I went to the club, and from there, it was just a simple matter of Plaxico Burress being as dumb as a motherfucking bag of rocks.

It was the perfect crime!

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