So apparently the other night a bunch of frat boys on a bar crawl came into The Rail. Or maybe they weren’t frat boys, but either way, there was a shit-ton of testosterone in the air. One of them won a Hamm’s Hat, and he henceforth tackled his duties with vigor. Is this guy a Viking or what? A Viking with red sunglasses, that is!!
According to Tumbleweed, the boys went nuts. There were high-fives, low-fives, chest-thumping, fist-bumping, and fist-bumping where there’s a little explosion at the end thereby indicating, I suppose, that their fists are little chubby five-fingered nuggets of C-4. Nonetheless, she said she hadn’t seen that much excitement over a piece of cardboard in, well, since the last Hamm’s Hat.
That’s the beauty of Hamm’s Hats, see … seriously. If the UN sat down, and each ambassador drank a thirty, put on a Hamm’s Hat, there would be a lot less bullshit going on in the world. Why no one has thought of this is beyond me.
