Fancy, strip-club, and breakfast are all mutually exclusive... unless your idea of classy is someone at the breakfast table asking, "Can you pass the Hep. C, please?"
I can hear it now "I'll have two eggs, two pancakes with syrup, and a lap dance from a stripper without bullet wound scars and a c-section. What do you mean you don't have?"
Also my favorite part of this is that it's a Friday breakfast... not Saturday or Sunday when most people might legitimately be off work. I love this post!
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