Now that we’re about to have four former Applebuddies (all fired, for the record) working next door at Lone Star—in addition to me beginning my own new serving job closer to home at a local sountry club and putting in my two-weeks this coming Monday morning—it only seems double-appropriate that I’m actually thinking of this song. (I’m sure they play it next door at the steakhouse when they’re not busy overplaying that Dalvid Allen Coe song we’ve all heard 50-fucking-million times. Yeah, it’s hilarious. Really. All the frat boys still think so too.)

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