Last night I went to a bar and this was this old man in a very faded tux with a colorful vest (also faded) doing magic tricks. He made crumpled up dollar bills go through plastic cups and then had a can of Rainier beer appear beneath one of them. Then he did one where he had us all write our names in Sharpie on a card and then he threw the cards on the floor and the one with our names ended up on the ceiling, where it remains. I am still amazed just thinking about this.
(Sidenote (or is that redundant since the fact that it's in parentheses already means it's a parenthetical remark (read: sidenote):"They're illusions, Michael. Tricks are what whores do for money . . . or cocaine." Ahh, Arrested Development. Best show ever.)
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