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There are days like today when you wake up on the verge of puking all over yourself with varying versions of the weekend floating in and out of your head and you have to stop and ask yourself some questions.. Did I really do shots of Johnnie Walker Black and Starbucks Doubleshot yesterday? Did I spend Saturday night twisted on Crown Royal and Tanqueray watching my dumb ass friends sing Karaoke? Did I really get a random text message that read, “Son of a Nutcracker!”? You lay in bed trying to figure out why exactly it is you really have to go to work at all. Then, something like this happens and instantly everything comes into focus. Now I know that I’m on the right track. Three words baby.. Dakota. Fanning. Satan.
Pretty much sums everything up, doesn’t it?