Before I can dispense with talk of the Butta Burger (at least until the next time someone orders it), I need to make a final statement: The shit was the worst part, the shit is the worst part, and the shit will be the worst part. It is my civil duty to inform you of this. Butta Burgers: not even once. Moving on. Iris came home from New York City today after spending the weekend with her friend Lillian, who Iris describes as a "twinkie." Eric came up for a rare visit and cooked up a huge early Thanksgiving feast at the girls' place on St. Alphonsus, so Haley, Iris, Alaric and me walked over to share in the food and fun; also present were Harrison and Lauren C. The night was full of snapchatting, scarfing of characteristically amazing Eric food, telling stories, and general merriment. After we finally excused ourselves for the night, we went home and perused old photo albums on my computer, especially the great many photos I took freshman year.
Quotes of the day:
"PO BOYS!!!!" - Eric
"The tribe runs deep. Right, Harrison?" - Eric
"The Bank of Harrison is always open." - Harrison
"...brutally simple..." - Eric
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