By Jordan Stein

All right guys, let’s be honest right now. This whole post-prom thing, I don’t really know what to say about it. I’ll probably go, ya know? A lot of people are going. But this 5 A.M lockdown is the product of some goofball from who knows where.

I can’t believe I’m even writing this for you, this stuff just gets old to talk about. They have prizes, but I’m already going to Jay-Z so who needs those Dave tickets? Not Hollywood Stein.

Hollywood Stein’s got it in the bag. Post-prom will be coming up to me asking me to donate my time as a prize. That’s fine. Fine. Not that good, not that bad.

But if I go, who can stay up until five? I can do two or three, but after that I’m bustin’ out yo. And if that fails I’ll move to Plan B, which consists of laying in the courtyard until I wake up at noon the next day with a fully grown mustachio and an A+ attitude. If I do make it until five, that’s just a fluke. But as they say—“Any given Sunday”—which in this case means, Chipotle.

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