Natty Plight

Id A: Their king has arrived.

In pink and grey t-shirt from Urban (which, yeah, I shop at but I don't buy the t-shirts that say shit on them because I am not a bro) that says "DON'T QUIT"and a perfectly distressed sideways hat, no less. He left the pooka shells at home. Cue: Hushed reverence. I'm calling him the king, even though his name is probably Nathan/Ian/Jake, because all the other bros stopped talking when he walked in. Like mid-word. Like, if "I was totally gonna funnel that Natty with Brandon" was finished then they all would've "thrown down." Rape(!)(?)

Uday Pulaski, Id A, literally, not even joking, same time: He should quit life. (Because, you know, like, suicide = totally funny.)

Seriously, it was the biggest bro-fest I have ever witnessed. But not the most bros I've seen in one place, there were only like seven of them. ONLY SEVEN! And of course, it all happened in the classiest joint in town, the Taco Bell on Sunrise Highway. And like, these bro's were totally younger than us and therefore definitely couldn't drive which means their moms had to DROP THEM OFF AT A TACO BELL AT LIKE 10:30. Which also means they had to be picked up from a Taco Bell at like 11. I can only imagine the phone call, probably on one of the walkie-talkie cell phones that are a annoying because annoying people use them and how hard is it to hit send when you go into your phone book on a regular cell phone?

Needless to say, we got the hell out of Dodge. And then I saw another bro from a different bro pack, I'm assuming, fall off his bike. It is so cute that you ride a bike! Presh! Do you think the two groups had like Jets-Sharks fight in the Taco Bell later? That would have been fun.