The place where you go to prove your manhood on Thursdays with 60 cent wings on the menu. You show up to bdubs and you order a humbling 20 wing basket and you can hardly finish them all. You should also never leave a tip for the shitty waitresses. And the waiters
try to be your
bro. On your drive
home from bdubs you start brewing the ol' number
3 (explosive diarrhea) and by the time you get
home, the shitter is more important than saying hi to your
wife. Before you even sit on the toilet, your asshole already decides to start spewing soupy poop and spraying
shit and you can't even tell if you are pooping or peeing at this point and now you have shit everywhere and you decide never to attend bdubs again, but then crave it next week.