"And that beautiful park by The Cloisters... Fort Tryon? Trye-onne? Tyrone," my roommate says, finally.
"'You better call Tyrone..., but you can't use my phone," I sing in my best Erykah Badu voice.
"Scott, you're alienating people, no one knows that song," Katie says, deadpan.
When I gasp in disbelief and reach for the remote, she adds, "Do not make me listen to..., oh, okay, fine."
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One year ago: May I Have Another?
Two years ago: Race Relations
Three years ago: Giant Pustulant Anal Sore
Four years ago: Mama's Boy
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