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No martini class? No problem.
Good, Dream Police sounds best blasted outside.
Spoiler: no Ompa-Loompas.
Time to leave that tablet at home, we’re headed to parts unknown.
In what sense a “founder” reserved this whisky is a shade unclear.
AKA, the section of the mall we nervously avoid.
Warning: incoming badassery.
If you can call that a bike.
Best part: paying someone else to do it!
Featuring the ‘Lady Aztecs’, which is about as odd as team names get.
You will need a deep fryer.
Come and get it, hipsters.