Boobs & Guns = America
I’m relieved that the week has come to a close. I feel like I dragged my ass through the entire week of classes; each consecutive day being slightly more fatigue-filled than the previous. TGIF right? DAMN RIGHT!
Today, on the half our lunch break that is allotted to us by our professor, a few of my classmates and I decided to go to Scotties Brewhouse to chug a quick beer before heading back to class. Bad idea. It only multiplied my pre-existing drowsiness. Oh, and I was quick to discover that my ability to comprehend a foreign language is drastically reduced when alcohol is factored into the equation. Whoops.
It’s all good though because after class Alex had talked me into going to a GUN SHOW with him and his dad after class. I’d never been to a gun show before so I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. There were a shitload of guns… and rednecks. I’ve never seen so many booths selling confederate flags in my life. The guns were pretty badass but the clientele was sketchy to say the least. It was strange to feel comfortable with so many people carrying guns around in plain sight. It was surprising to see so many boxes of ammunition for sale considering that most people are ranting and raving about shortages. Apparently they aren’t going to gun shows. That’s where the ammo is at. Wow, gun shows are uber American. Patriotism smells like gun grease (in case you weren’t aware).
After we finished drooling over humongous guns that could shoot down anything from small birds to airplanes we cut out to get some grub. We were having dinner with Alex’s brother Ian who lives in Indianapolis and was just getting off work. He got to make the call on where we were eating and he decided that Hooters was the best choice. Seriously, what could make this visit to Indianapolis anymore American than going to Hooters right after a gun show? The answer is… NOTHING. We were basking in the glory of America. The Hooters experience reminded me of the South Park episode “Raisins” verbatim. I kept wanting to call Josh Line by the name of Butters because the conversations were exactly the same.
So as of 10:45PM that concludes my Friday. Right now I’m waiting on the GF arrive so we can head down to the Fickle Peach for some much needed beer. After all, I haven’t had a beer since 11:30AM.
America… FUCK YEAH!
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