For St. Patrick's Day, I had a nice dinner at Asgard in Central Square with Bob and Erin. Lots of chatting, potato-based meals, and Irish beer. On my way back to the train station to go home, I was on the T with many drunk undergrads. Lotta Celtics jerseys on the guys, and lotta tight green shirts and leggings on the girls.
This particular group had a lot of drunk "Yah Dude!" undergrad boys and one very drunk, very vacant, very fake blonde (or so her eyebrows told me) girl. I'm still on the fence if she was trying to get into one of their pants at the end of the night, or just wanted to hang. Here is the conversation that transpired:
Yah Dude: Dude, let's go back to my place and do Irish Car Bombs! Yahhh!
Drunk Blonde Girl: (giggle) Is an Irish Car Bomb like a muffin? (giggle)
So we're all on the same page, this is what an Irish Car Bomb looks like:
And this is what a muffin looks like:
You be the judge... are they the same thing?
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