Brotherly Love, Leo Varadkar, & Bruce Springsteen

“I forgot the tickets,” he cried in a voice thick with a desperation akin to someone helplessly watching their beloved about to be ploughed into oblivion by a tractor.

“Are you f***ing kidding me?” I ask.

“No,” he says, “I’m serious.”

Seeing as how I can see that he’s very extremely upset with himself, and giving him a ton of abuse isn’t going to do any good, I laugh and satisfy myself with a simple, “I’m sorry, but you’re some f***ing pleb.”

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