It's the M-F'ing Banquet!

Woooweeee! It's the banquet tomorrow, and I'm so freakin' excited. I hope I don't puke.

If you're still on the fence, fuggedaboutit. Clip on your tie, scrounge up twenty-five bucks for you and your ho, and get yourself down to the Sheraton for a rip-roaring good time.

The mayhem begins at 5 and then goes well past your bedtime. I gots a room, so you can crash with me - hell, it'll be just like Syracuse ('cos you won't pay me - w00t!).

Did I mention I love the banquet?

How much do you love the banquet?
	Soooo much, it hurts when I pee.
	More than puppies.
	More than cake.
	More than Captain and Coke.
	It's better than Christmas.
	More than meth.
	More than red hot pokers in my eyes.
	More than the 12 months of rugby I played to get here.
	More than Baby Jesus.
	More than you do.
	Dunno, never been to one.
	More than the girls banquet.
	More than the girl I'm bringing.
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