Approximately 24 hours from now, I will [hopefully] be exiting a movie theater, after a midnight screening of The Expendables. In the wake of it all, I expect the following:

  • Horrendously bad breath (after the amount of beef jerky I will consume)
  • Male pattern baldness (from absorbing too much testosterone)
  • Expedited hair growth on my knuckles
  • A full bladder (cause goddamn if I’ll be leaving to piss during the movie)
  • A bit nauseous (from that godawful Shinedown song that’s likely to play during the end credits)
  • Veins in my hair
  • An intense desire to marathon the Rambos, Commando and Die Hard, and/or kill a tiger with my bare hands

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