True Story

One time, my friend visited Baltimore and took a shit in the backseat of a randomly parked car for no reason. When he bragged of the story, I was disgusted and mortified that I was even acquainted with such a person. I realize now that he deserves an award because Baltimore SUCKS, so whomever’s car that ‘shit’ went down in, probably deserved it.

Besides the astute Johns Hopkins bubble located downtown, the people here are degenerates, and I swear to God I get dumber every time I leave the house. Cave men roam the streets and I've noticed the safest thing to do is wear a hoodie and shades. I've also learned to find peace and serenity in watching my own feet as I walk, in order to avoid any human contact. The women here are downright ugly and the only men worth looking at are gay. Standards don’t exist, so I say get rid of Match.com and just relocate the desperate candidates to Baltimore because everyone here is guaranteed (their invalid attraction to) love & marriage.

Ok sure, this place has its high points, but even jail has camaraderie and free food. In other words, it’s the knock-off version of Boston.

Besides that, I’m having fun...mainly because I can have fun anywhere, and my roommate is a ginger. Plus there is a drive-thru Starbucks down the street and two country-music radio stations. Told you I’m easy to please.

Overall though, Baltimore is the type of place that you can act like a complete retard, walk out of the house a hot mess and wear sweatpants to the bar and no one thinks twice about it (this is actually preferred). So women who like laziness, letting yourself go or think J. Crew is high fashion, come on down! There’s an assured man at the end of every bar waiting for you (note the hunk below), who is ready and willing to take you home and knock you up instantaneously.

For those who want to visit the place, especially after this generous review, be prepared to out-drink yourself (because there’s nothing better to do), eat anything you can imagine (topped, stuffed or shoved with crab) and be classified as a stripper if you wear heels instead of flip flops. Women have literally barked obscenities at me & my shoes. And to anyone who knows me, you DON'T fuck with my shoes. Rowdy bitches.

Tomorrow Lo & I are going to the National Aquarium and I’m hoping the animals have a little more class than the general population, otherwise I’m going to upset this city and free Willy.