2002-10-18

Let me begin by saying that I love the Royal Oak. I do. The staff is friendly, the food is good, and they have a great selection of Belgian beers on tap. But man! Every time I fucking go there, I end up sitting next to a table of, like, first-year Philosophy majors or something. Christ on a stick, people! Shut your pie holes! Like, wow, jerkwad. You know who Immanuel Kant is. You get a gold star. I'm here to tell you, though, that your assbag-pedant conversation about the nature of perception versus reality? Which you insist on having at the top of your lungs? Is NOT going to get you laid. Not even a little bit. Why don't you just climb up on the table, do a little dance, and scream "BEHOLD MY GIANT BRAIN! BOW BEFORE THE MIGHTY BRAIN, AND SUCK MY TINY DICK!" because then, at least, you'd be saying what you actually mean, and I'd have a legitimate excuse to come over there and spank your face with the blunt end of my beer bottle.