I come to you, friends, from the Precipice of Doom. That’s right, I’m awaiting Bateman to pick me up in his charlatan chariot, and whisk me away to Montreal with the majority of OL for a Bachelor Weekend for a mutual friend. I come to, you, one Bateman-on-his-phone away-driving-100mph from the obliteration of Space-Ship Omega. I’m being dramatic, but I do anticipate witnessing some *shit* this weekend, the eye of a mellifluous maelstrom.

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